Of Written Words and Their Colors
by lunequireve
Summary: Natasha never had the easiest or simplest life. Yet along the way she had come to accept the hand of cards fate had dealt her and was as happy and satisfied with what she had as she could be. But with one phone call, one event, everything changes and she is forced to cope and attempt to understand her new reality and decide what it is that she truly wants. Soulmate AU (Clintasha)
1. The Color Pink

**Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is recognizable but I do unfortunately take credit for any grammatical or spelling mistakes that may be present in this story.**

 **The idea of soulmate and soulmarks have always interested me and recently with the wonderful stories that have been going around using this idea (in particular CeliaEquus's, ozhawk's, and gth694e's wonderful stories that if you haven't read I would most definitely encourage you to read them), I decided to try my own hand at one and this story was created. I hope you enjoy it! :)**

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 _I know I can't ask you for anything, especially not after this, but if you'd do just one more thing for me, or if not for me then for your children and to honor her memory, live. Live Clint. You have so much to live for and she would never want to see you like this. Not when they still need their father. She isn't gone for good, you know. You can see her shining so clearly from Cooper's smile, the way Lila's eyes sparkle and in Nathaniel's laughter. She's never truly gone as long as you hold them dear to you and love them. So please, love them._

 _I am sorry to leave like this but I have to go and you and I both know that this is the least painful way, for all of us. You have your life and I have mine. Your children need you. They need their father and my team and the world needs me. Thank you for everything. Thank you for the memories, the good time and the bad times, and most importantly, thank you for your love. You changed my life that day and I am forever grateful, but now, now I've paid my debt and I have to go. Like I told you that day in the barn, everything will be all right Clint, you'll see._

 _Goodbye,_

 _Natasha._

She looked down, tears in her eyes, her hands trembling ever so slightly, at the letter she held in her hands. She didn't want to do this – more than anything she wanted to throw the blasted letter into the fire and watch it burn – but she couldn't. This was something she needed to do.

Careful not to make too much noise yet working quickly, she gingerly folded the lined paper and placed it in an envelope. She needed to be gone before anyone woke up and realized that she had left. Sealing the envelope, she gently brushed her lips against it and placed it under the letter she had written for the children. She wasn't sure if they would ever understand but she hoped they would one day realize that this was what was best for them. She knew she should leave now while she still could, but she couldn't. Not before she said goodbye, even if they would never know or remember.

She quietly made her way up the stairs and opened Cooper's door ever so gently attempting to prevent the hinges from squeaking. For a few minutes she simply stood there, seeing the young man as the child he had been when she first met him rather than the teenager he was now. That first day Clint had brought her to his farm Cooper had walked over towing a gigantic book behind him and asked her to read to him. From that moment on that had been their "thing" whenever she came to visit and often times she would bring a new book he had never read before as a surprise. A small smile crossed her face as she made her way from the doorframe to his bedside. She gently lifted his blanket over his shoulders and brushed a kiss against his forehead whispering, "Stay strong Cooper. I love you." Then she fled the room knowing if she stayed too long her resolve would vanish and she would be tempted stay. She knew she couldn't stay at the farm. She couldn't stay and pretend everything was all right when it wasn't.

She stopped by Lila's room next and watched the little girl curled up around her stuffed bunny sleep, looking so happy and peaceful. Lila had only been a baby when Natasha had first met her and now, now she was on the brink of becoming a tween. Sometimes Natasha wondered where all the time had gone and just when Lila had grown up, but that didn't matter now. She couldn't let it matter now. So just as she had done for Cooper she lovingly fixed Lila's comforter and brushed a kiss across her forehead. "Stay happy Lila. I love you." She told the little girl smoothing back her hair as she always did when she had tucked her into bed in the past. "May you always have happy dreams," She wished as the little girl began to stir and wake up. Seeing that, Natasha disappeared as quietly as she had appeared in the room, leaving no trace or hint that she had ever been there.

Finally her last stop was Nathaniel's nursery. As she entered, she sensed him beginning to wake up and so she quickly crossed the room and allowed herself to pick up her namesake one last time. Gently cuddling him close to her, she began to sway back and forth as she murmured to him trying to lull him back to sleep. "Nathaniel, oh Nathaniel. I love you so, so much. You, your sister, your brother, and your dad. But you see, that's why I have to go away. I can't stay here Nathaniel. As much as I want too, I can't. Your dad needs to be your dad again and with me here, he can't be. So I have to go. I don't know if I'll ever be able to come back, but please know that I love you and your family with all my heart and I always will. But sometimes things just don't work out and you have to make the best of what you have. Sometimes you love someone so much that as much as it hurts you, you'd do anything for them and their happiness. You'll see when you get older Nathaniel, but I hope you'll always be happy little one."

Sensing that the toddler had once again drifted off to dream land she placed him back into his crib, relishing her last chance to smooth his hair and tuck him back into bed knowing full well that by the time he woke up again his blanket would have been completely kicked off. "Sleep tight and sweet dreams." She whispered as she snuck out closing the door behind her as she heard him sleepily mumble a word that froze her where she stood – Mama.

She leaned back against the now closed door and slid to the ground. Bringing her knees up to her chest, she buried her hands into her hair, one hand accidently brushing against the worlds that were scrawled in pink along her hairline. Words she had kept secret for so long. "I'm not Nathaniel. I'm not your Mama." She muttered in a low voice, "Maybe in another life or another world but not here, not in this one. I'm not, I can't be your mama."

She sat there for a few minutes wondering how everything had gone so wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this. She had never asked for this and she would have never wished for something like this to happen no matter what fate dictated or had planned. This was not what she had wanted. Finally recomposing herself, she found herself gingerly making her way to Clint's room yet once she was there she couldn't find the strength to open it. In another time and place he would have sensed her presence the second she had appeared in front of his door, but not now, not any more. She didn't allow herself to linger there for very long, but simply placed her hand on the wooden door and walked on.

Natasha quickly gathered her bags from her room and hurried down the stairs, still careful to make no noise and to avoid the squeaky step. She had asked Steve to pick her up and she only had a few more minutes before he would be outside waiting for her. Once she had made sure she had grabbed everything, she looked around the house that had been her home for the past year. In her mind's eye she could image what it would be like if she simply stayed. They could maybe be happy, but she knew it could never be. She had once read that loving someone meant letting them go and she loved them all too much to stay, so she had to go, no matter what anything meant. This was how she loved them. Maybe in another world they could have been happy. Maybe in another world this was the life they could have had. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But life wasn't about maybes, she knew that far better than anyone else. Life was about choices you made and what you did. It was about more than what people told or asked you to do or even what you were fated to do. Love made life what it was and this, this was her choice.

"Goodbye." She breathed and then she left. Racing down the steps to where Steve was waiting for her with open arms; not allowing herself the privilege of looking back at what could have been.

"You sure about this Nat?" Steve asked as he helped her pack her bags back into the car; Natasha pulling her hair into a bun, long talked about and wished for pink words glittering just so in the moonlight.

She hopped into the car with more energy and certainty than they both knew she possessed and keeping her eyes fixed on Steve, she answered, "More than anything Steve. Let's go."

It was a lie and they both knew it, but deep down both also knew that this is what had to be done – no matter how much it would hurt.

 _Legend says that pink words are the rarest of them all and that if you were blessed by fate to have words written in pink you'd be happy forever. However this is where the fairytales and fables diverge from reality. Pink are perhaps the rarest, and while often times those who have had pink were extremely happy, pink doesn't symbolize love forever or guarantee a life full of happiness and joy. Rather pink symbolizes and tells of unconditional, sacrificial love._

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 **A/N: Please don't hate me! I promise this won't be the last time Laura appears (or is mentioned). :)**

 **Thank you so much for reading this and I hope you enjoyed it. I hope you had/have a wonderful rest of the day! :)**


	2. The Color White

**Warning: Red Room activities and missions are alluded to and spoken of.**

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"Hmm… Let's try that again. Shall we Natalia?" She could hear the disappointment in her instructor's voice as she moved to reset the simulation. "This time try to be a little more precise with your shots. Alright?" She asked handing her charge another fully loaded gun.

Natalia took the proffered weapon with a slight nod of her head and lined it up to the target. Taking a shot, she hit it perfectly on the mark.

"That's it Natalia!" Her instructor exclaimed with a hint of a smile. "Now, repeat that for the rest of the clip."

Natalia knew she was special. While none of her instructors had ever mentioned anything to her, she could tell she was. With her they were more patient, more willing to be understanding, and seemingly kinder. While the other girls were punished for not behaving or performing as well as their instructors wanted, the only thing her instructors had ever done to her was simply increase the intensity of her training. They never laid a hand on her even if she didn't meet their expectations and while she wished she could turn a blind eye to the obvious favoritism, Natalia knew why. It was the same reason why she was given all of the "special" lessons on the history of the Motherland and why by the age of 10, she had been trained to speak and understand all of the major diplomatic languages of the world. It was the reason why in addition to her classes on how to use her body to best seduce a mark, she had been taught how to behave in the presence of royalty and diplomats. She was different from all of the other girls and the writing that graced the area just beneath her hairline proved it to everyone around her. She was special.

They had wanted to form the perfect weapon and had she been anyone else, she would have been molded and shaped just like all of the other girls at the academy. Yet with her, they knew they not only had their perfect weapon but something far more unique and valuable. "You are going to change the world Natalia." They would murmur to her as she trained. "You are our perfect weapon and so much more."

Sometimes at night she would run her fingertips over her words and wonder what he was like. Would he understand her life and what she had been trained to be? Would he see her and suddenly know who she was? Would she see him and realize immediately that this was the man who would change her life? What could cause him to say the words that were inked on her skin? And above all, would he love her? She knew it was dangerous to think like that and to wonder such traitorous questions, but all her life they had engrained in her all the knowledge that they possessed on soulmarks and she couldn't help but dream of a life like that of the fairy tale princesses that she had read about. She was being trained to be the perfect weapon, but along with that came a certain type of innocence that only the Red Room could create.

A type of innocence that could have only been created by the way she was trained. She was to be exactly what was needed for them to change the world and thus for all the devastating events and all the deaths of innocent girls that the Red Room was responsible for, with Natalia they treaded ever so carefully and treated her as if she was a precious, delicate china doll, one that with too much pressure or one wrong action could easily be broken. Yet sometimes when her instructors were asleep, she would sneak out of her room and into the massive bedroom that all of the other girls shared. There the girls would talk about their marks and dream of what it would be like to meet the one who would say those exact words to them. Sometimes Natalia would share a bit of what she had learned from her books or lessons, but most often, she sat off to the side where she was content to watch and listen to what the other girls had to say. There, she was simply happy to be around others her age and for once, to not be the center of attention.

As time passed and as the girls grew older, she watched them disappear one by one. Sometimes there were "training accidents", sometimes they were lost to benefit the Motherland, but most often they became someone they were not due to the simple stringing together of words in one specific and particular order. She had heard of it happening time and time again. Girls would go out on a mission, be told their words and suddenly become someone, something, else. It was as if they had been programed to act that way. Natasha knew that they had never attempted that sort of training with her – she was far too "precious" to risk incase something happened and Red Room lost her forever – yet that did nothing to soothe her occasional worries.

Yet it wasn't until after she dragged herself back to the headquarters after a successful but rather messy mission that she realized something needed to be done. How could he accept her with all the blood on her hands and red in her ledger? Yes, she was the Black Widow, however due to her training and background, they had only ever used her when they needed someone with her specific skillset and that, in itself, was very rare. Those were highly classified, highly specialized, high priority missions. Missions where they needed to use their precious weapon, as no other would do. Yet never had a mission been as messy as this one had and while she had taken so many lives before, there had never been so many innocent lives lost in one single blow.

"You must be more careful Natalia." They told her as they patched her up removing pieces of shrapnel from her body piece by piece. "We don't want anything to happen to you, драгоценный оружие."

She shuttered remembering how they had looked at her, as if she were their savior and would accomplish everything they had never been able to do. She looked down at her hands lying against the pale cream duvet that covered her bed. While she knew they had been cleaned from any remnants of the mission, one of her instructors (the one who had taught her how to shoot) had taken care of that, all she could see was crimson, warm blood dripping off them and onto the floor forming a stream that flowed out of her room and down the hallway. How could she have done that to all those poor innocent children? They had never done anything to her, they were just beginning their lives and then with one single movement, in one single breath, it was all over. It was over before it had even begun and she alone was responsible for ending it.

Something needed to be done if she was ever going to be worthy enough to bear the white writing that lay hidden beneath her scarlet curls. She needed to do something to prove that fate had been right when it chose her. Lifting up her right hand she gently traced the writing that had separated her from her peers and that had given her the life and the privileges she had had for as long as she could remember.

"I don't know who you are," she murmured ever so quietly, "but I promise I will work my whole life to try and make things right and be worthy of you. I don't know how I'm going to do that, but I promise I will do everything I can to be someone you could love." She paused for a moment remembering one of the stories her instructors had told her such a long time ago it seemed to be a dream, "and if it's not love you need, then I promise I will be anything you need me to be. A friend, a confidant, someone you can trust. I promise you that. And I promise that one day I will wipe all the red from my ledger and be the girl I was supposed to be. The girl that in another world I could have been."

It was then, in the pure white moonlight that she started to plan how she was going to escape and begin to fulfill her promise. Plans that she made with one hand gently tracing the messy scrawl along her hairline.

 _White is the color of purity, of perfectness, of perfection. It is a tabula rasa. It is like a blank canvas just waiting for someone to draw or paint on it and lead it to its destiny, into what it was meant to become. It is something that is waiting to be imprinted upon, to be created into something. Throughout history only a few have been blessed to bear a white mark upon their skin and it was these few chosen ones who changed the world. Little has been truly documented on this rare type of soulmark, but what is known is about those who have this sort of writing upon their skin is kept secret and hidden from the world for the fear that if one were to fall into the hands of the wrong people the results would be disastrous._

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драгоценный оружие - precious weapon

 **A/N. Hi everyone! Thank you Ealasaid Una and intanfania who reviewed, Dragon Reverb and Dynasty101Warriors who added this story to their favorites list, realityisanillusion, intanfania, Your-Addictions, Under the Blue Sea, G01DF1NCH and AshWeeeeee for following this story and everyone who took the time to read the last chapter. I know this chapter was a bit dry for lack of a better word but somethings about Natasha's background needed to be built/clarified in order for it to make sense later on.**

 **I hope you had/have a wonderful day and thank you for reading this chapter/story! :)**


	3. The Color Blue

"Natasha, this is Laura, my wife." Clint pulled the petite brunette close to him, a grin on his face as he introduced his new partner to the most important person in his life. "Honey, meet Natasha."

"Mrs. Barton." Natasha held out her hand that once it was taken, she found herself sinking into a curtsy, her head dipping ever so slightly as years of training and past missions dictated her actions. "It's a pleasure to meet you. Thank you for welcoming me into your beautiful home."

To her surprise and happiness, although she would never tell anyone, Mrs. Barton didn't laugh or look at all shocked by Natasha's actions, but rather she seemed as if it were perfectly normal for a world renown assassin to be curtsying in her living room.

"Please, just call me Laura." Mrs. Barton, no, Laura said with a smile. "I'm so happy that Clint finally brought you home. I'd been telling him that he needed to bring you home ever since I found out he had a new partner and I'm just so glad to finally meet you!" She looked as if she wanted to continue when a shrill cry was heard from one of the upstairs rooms. "Oh, that's Lila. She's probably hungry. Clint, make sure Natasha feels comfortable." As she extracted herself from Clint's embrace, she softly patted Natasha's arm, a ring of blue writing around her wrist showing as her sleeve fell back. "Make yourself at home."

Once Laura had disappeared upstairs, Clint led Natasha over to the couch. "Are you thirsty? I'm sure Laura has just about anything you could want either in the fridge or the pantry. She always stocks up when we have guest."

Natasha looked up a Clint trying to connect the man who had saved her with the man who called this farm his home. It was suddenly making more and more sense as to why he had refused to shoot her and instead had simply wished to talk. "Water would be nice." She finally said. "Thank you."

As Clint rummaged around the kitchen muttering under his breath, _Now I'm sure this is where we stored the glasses the last time I was home_ , Natasha found herself glancing around room intrigued by the place her partner called home when she felt a slight tug on her pants. Looking down she saw a little boy no older than 5 standing beside her – one tiny hand grasping her pants and the other struggling to hold on to a rather thick looking book.

"Read? Please?" The boy looked up at her, hope shining out of his brown eyes.

Natasha smiled for real this time and nodded. "Do you need help getting up?" She asked holding out her hands for the book.

Adamantly shaking his head, he handed her his treasure and using both hands, climbed his way onto the couch, settling himself next to her and leaning his head against her arm.

"What's your name?" Natasha asked as she flipped through the book trying to figure out what exactly she had volunteered to read. "My name's Natasha."

"Cooper." He said before pointing to the story she had just flipped to. "That one please, Miss Nat."

A brief smile danced across her face at the nickname the little boy had bestowed upon her before she looked down at the story and began to read. "Of course. Once upon a time in a land far, far away there lived…" As she read she took on different voices for each character and allowed herself to become more comfortable. More like the girl the Red Room had trained her to be, without the assassin part of course. Due to her rather unique soulmark and the legends surrounding ones like hers, they had trained her to fit in perfectly wherever they might send her or whatever she might have become. This, by default, had included how to act around children. She would never tell anyone but it was among children that she felt the safest and most comfortable. Children wouldn't and didn't judge her based on her past. Children would not have expectations of what she would accomplish in her life and most importantly, children loved unconditionally. She paused in her reading to see if the little boy was enjoying the story she was currently reading or if he wanted her to read a different one when she realized that he had fallen asleep against her arm.

"That's probably not very comfortable at all Cooper." She whispered, careful not to wake him up. "Let's see what we can do about that."

Natasha gently picked up the little boy and holding him close to her with one hand, she used the other to fix the pillows that lay on the couch into a suitable bed for him. "There you go." She said as she laid him down, careful not to jostle him too much. "Sleep tight little one."

Looking up she was startled to see her partner and his wife standing behind her, seemingly transfixed by the sight of the Black Widow putting a little boy to bed, even if it was just on a couch. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you there. I wasn't sure where his room is so I just made him comfortable there. I hope that's okay with you. Thank you for everything, good night." She said in a hurry before she fled to the safety of the guest room Laura and Clint had put together for her.

Normally she would have been calmer, more collected and less frazzled – she was a trained spy after all! Yet never had she been faced with such a unique and delicate mission as the situation she now found herself part of. Yes, she was a spy and yes, she had been trained by the most vicious and deadly programs that ever existed, but deep down, she was Natalia Romanova. Deep down there was still a part of her that was the young girl who snuck out of her room to listen to the hopes and dreams of the other girls in the program and deep down, she was still the woman who had made a promise to wipe the red from her ledger.

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It would be an understatement to say that Clint had been shocked to see his new partner acting so calmly and so carefully around his son. While he had no worries about his and Laura's safety, he had been worried as to how Natasha would react to being around children. The information that S.H.I.E.L.D. had collected on both the Red Room program and Natasha herself had never indicated whether or not she had ever interacted with children before or if her reaction would be a positive one or a negative one. But, he did trust her and so when Laura had asked yet again for Clint to bring her to the farm, he finally agreed. That said, he could have never imagined seeing Natasha Romanoff, the infamous Black Widow, reading a book of Disney stories to his son in such an animated and perfect manner as he had just witnessed not more than a few hours earlier. He had returned to the living room after successfully tracking down where Laura had relocated the glasses to find his son curled up next to Natasha as she read to him the story of the Princess and the Pea. He had stood quietly in the corner as they moved from story to story – from the Princess and the Pea to Lion King to the 3 Musketeers to the Aristocrats to The Sword in the Stone. Never had his young partner seemed more alive or happier than those few hours she had spent with his son and a part of him wondered why. The Black Widow was infamous for being cold hearted and willing to do anything to get the job done and while he had seen through her cold façade that fateful night to see a young girl formed and molded by external circumstances and powers to be something that no one should be; this was something new. In his living room he didn't see the infamous Black Widow, the scared young girl he had seen that night, or even his partner, but rather a young woman who looked so happy to simply have the opportunity to entertain his son and read to him.

Halfway through the 3 Musketeers Laura had come down after feeding and putting Lila back to sleep and together they had watched mesmerized as the young crimson haired assassin had read the story in a variety of French accents, every so often encouraging Cooper to join her as she used her voice to act out the story for him. Who was she? Clint found himself wondering. He knew the way Natasha acted at headquarters and had seen first hand the way she acted on missions, but this side of her was completely different, something new, something free.

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After Natasha had made her, admittedly less than graceful escape, she locked herself in her room in an attempt to understand everything that had happened.

1\. Her partner trusted her enough to not only mention her to his wife, but to bring her to his home and allow her to spend time with his only son. She knew it was one thing to trust her in the field with his life but it was a completely different thing to trust her with the lives of the ones he loved.

2\. She had allowed others to see a side of her she had always kept hidden. A side that only presented itself during missions that required it, and truthfully the only part of missions for the Red Room that she had enjoyed.

3\. He was married to his best friend whose words were written around her wrist.

That third finding was so important and while to others, it may have caused them distress or worry, to her it was fine and would explain why he had had no reaction to the first words she had said to him. She had never expected anything from the one who would say her words. Yes, there were times when as a child she had dreamed of what could be or what the future held, something that the Red Room had unknowingly or perhaps knowingly encouraged through her lessons. Yet as she grew older and began to try to wipe some of the red from her ledger, she began to realize that she would never want to bring anyone into the reality that she called her life and that she would never want to burden her poor soulmate with the truth of everything she had done.

She had made a promise a long time ago; a promise she intended on keeping. Clint didn't need anything related to romance from her and for that she was grateful. She didn't think she was worthy with everything she had done to have a relationship that would change the world or so the white writing on her skin foretold. He had a perfect life with his wife and his children and she was simply happy he was happy. He had never asked her about her soulmark, and she never wanted to tell him. He needed a good partner and friend, and that was one role Natasha was happy to take.

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"She's so young!" Laura exclaimed as she changed for bed. "I know you said that she was one of the youngest agents, but Clint, she has to be in her early 20's. She's that young, and they turned her into… They trained a _child_ to be…" She let her sentences die off, not sure of how to ask what she wanted to ask or even how to truly phrase them.

"Yeah." Clint said sitting down on their bed. "Do you see now why I couldn't take the shot? She's so young and has her whole life ahead of her. It's not her fault she was raised to become the Black Widow. And today with Cooper, did you see how enamored he was with her and how she treated him? There's no way that that's only due to the Red Room's training. There's definitely a part of her that's remained innocent and untouched by whatever horrors she saw there and I think we've just begun to see a glimpse of it."

"I did Clint. And I think you're right. No matter what anyone says," Laura moved to sit behind the man who had been her best friend before he had become her everything, her arms draping over his shoulders and embracing him so that the words written around her wrist could touch those that were present around his upper arm, "I think, no, I know you made the right call."

 _Soulmarks aren't just restricted to pink and white. Of course they can't be if those are the rarest types of soulmarks. Rather, there are many shades one's words may be written in. Many have writing in blue, the color that conveys trust, peace and loyalty. Those who bear this writing are blessed with a best friend, the person who knows their soulmate better than themselves. Sometimes these couples remain platonic and sometimes it can lead to love, but no matter where it leads, these couples know that they forever have a shoulder to lean on._

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 **A/N. Hi everyone! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I'm sorry it took me so long to upload - I was away this past week and didn't have access to my computer. Thank you Guest and sherimi who reviewed chapter 2, kak29, shikasgirl10, DanielleHope, It'sOkayI'mAnAvenger, ashlee bravo 199981, and sherimi for adding this story to their favorites list, IvyVinesandWanderLust, More Black, Dynasty101Warriors,** **DanielleHope,** **It'sOkayI'mAnAvenger,** **ashlee bravo 199981, and** **sherimi for following this story and everyone who took the time to read the last few chapters. Your support truly means a lot to me, so thank you all so much.**

 **I hope you had/have a wonderful day and thank you again for reading this chapter! :)**


	4. There is no Color for Separation

**AN. The past 2 chapters were written to create some groundwork for the rest of the story; this chapter begins to move into the real action. Yay! :) Also, thanks to my good friend S. for betaing this chapter and for making this story so much better.**

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It had started out as a very normal, very typical and very ordinary day. A day that held the possibility of becoming quite enjoyable and even fun, but that all dissipated with one phone call.

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Steve and Natasha bent over a holotable moving models around in an attempt to try to find the best new configuration for their team. Before, with everyone, the way they interacted and fought with one another had felt so normal. It had been a team forged during the Battle of New York and strengthened with every battle they fought and every HYDRA base they destroyed. Yet with the changing of the guard and the retirement of many of their teammates, Steve and Natasha were forced to adapt and find ways for their new team to fight as a team. However, they were used to adapting to their situations – Steve in closing his eyes in the 1940's and opening them again in the 2010's and Natasha in becoming part of S.H.I.E.L.D. after being the Red Room's prized weapon for so long and in keeping what was perhaps her most valued secret a secret. Yes, these two were masters of adapting to the circumstances they called life.

"So I'm thinking," Steve explained his new plan as he separated the models into 3 groups, "if Vision and Wanda pair off and act as offense, Sam and Rhodey can cover the sky and you and I-"

"-could cover the ground, just like always." Natasha finished the sentence with a small smile. "Sounds like a plan Steve. Now, the better question is," she hopped up on the table to get a better look at the schematics, "do you want to try and collect everyone and run this now or later?"

"You're going to suggest running it now, aren't you?" He turned to her, a knowing smirk playing on his face.

"Well, if you want to motivate them to work later, be my guest. But it is supposed to be a gorgeous day today and I'm sure Sam wouldn't mind racing a few times this afternoon. As long as you restrict your 'on your lefts' to a certain number of times," she teased.

"And what would you be doing? Sun bathing outside in a bikini?" He returned.

She laughed a little, her eyes closing with amusement. "You know as well as I do, Cap, that bikinis and I don't get along very well. No, I have other plans," she explained, the amusement dying out from her voice.

"If he wants to be found, he'll be found, Nat. You don't have to worry about him. Bruce can definitely take care of himself. He was doing quite well when you found him in Calcutta, wasn't he?" Steve attempted to comfort her, knowing exactly what she meant. They had had, after all, a very similar conversation that day at the grave yard.

"He's still our teammate, Steve," she said drawing her knees up to her chest, "and above all he's our friend. We can't just give up on him."

"I thought you two were more than just friends Nat." Steve quietly said, as not to upset her as he climbed onto the table and sat next to her.

Natasha laid her head on his shoulder, her curls falling over to one side tickling his neck and allowing her words to be just visible if one knew where and what to look for. The white words that had for so long dictated her fate and now, even though she was free from the Red Room, in their own way, still managed to dictate her actions and, by extension, her fate.

"Sometimes fate deals you a hand that doesn't allow you to play the game. Bruce and I have had similar life experiences that allowed us to understand each other a little better." She shrugged her shoulders as much as she could shrug them with her head on Steve's shoulder and continued, "I don't know exactly what we were. Maybe it could have worked out. Maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe we could have been happy with each other or maybe we would have been miserable. If I've learned anything Steve, it's that life is full of maybes. However it isn't the maybes we need to focus on but rather what's here, what in front of us, and what we can change. But in the end," she lifted her head off Steve's shoulder and looked over at him, "he is our friend Steve, and we need to make sure he knows that he is missed and that he can come home whenever he wants."

"Shared life experiences, eh." A small regretful smile crossed Steve's face. "Well, if you ever need to talk Nat and Banner's not picking up his phone, I'll always pick up mine."

He watched as Natasha lifted her hand to the back of her neck and subconsciously began to move her fingers as if tracing something. "I will. Thank you Steve. Now," she hopped off the table and clapped her hands, "shall we round up the team or are your bones so achy that I need to do it all myself?"

There was the Natasha he had come to know during their time as Avengers and partners. He rolled his eyes at yet another one of her old man jokes but found himself attempting to repress the smile that was trying to make itself present. He wanted to say something but knew that she would only turn it around on him and he didn't want to give her any more ammunition so he simply said, "You get Wanda and Vision. I'll go track down Sam and Rhodey."

She smirked and brought her hand up to salute him. "Aye, aye, Captain," she said as she exited the room with a bit more energy in her step than Steve had seen for a long time. If he had thought about it he would have realized that it had been before the battle with Ultron that she had last had that amount of energy but he didn't allow himself to linger on it. He trusted Natasha enough to know that if she wanted to talk, she knew that Steve was always willing to listen.

"You know that was originally for the Navy, right?" he called out as he worked to shut of the holotable. "I wasn't part of the Navy, Nat!" He attempted to hear her response but all he got in return was Natasha's laugh.

* * *

"… So that's the plan. What does everyone think?" Steve asked after showing his new team the plan he and Natasha had created.

"It sounds like it's the best use of all our strengths. Good work guys." Sam gave his vote of approval as the others nodded and Wanda shot Natasha a smile and 2 thumbs up.

"Good then let's get to work. Avengers…" Steve started to say as a resounding ringtone echoed through the room cutting him off. He knew that ringtone he realized as it continued to reverberate bouncing from one wall to the next making it louder and louder. Over the past year he had heard that tune more and more often as Lila and Cooper wanted to talk to their aunt.

"Were you expecting…?" The question died in his throat as he took a close look at his second command, his partner, and the woman who had become like a little sister to him who stood besides him as still as a statue, as if frozen in place.

Natasha shook her head attempting to crush the panic she could feel beginning to well in her stomach. "Not at all. Not today." She whispered so quietly that only Steve could hear her.

 _Go. We'll run through some other drill,_ Steve said without actually saying anything, instead conveying his message with a slight tilt of his head.

In return Natasha lifted one eyebrow asking Steve, _Are you sure?_ to which he just gave a small nod. Flashing a fleeting, grateful smile at him, she darted over to the side of the training room, grabbed her phone and was gone.

"Alright team." Steve clapped once to draw attention away from their now gone teammate. "Let's run some drills. We'll try the new plan when Nat returns."

"Will Natasha be alright?" Wanda whispered in Steve's ear as she passed him to get into position.

"I hope so." That was all Steve could say and yet deep in his stomach he knew something had happened. Something was wrong.

 _While fate can often be kind when it comes to soulmates it can also be oh so cruel. Sometimes soulmates may find each other and spend a few glorious years together but then, due to circumstances that are beyond their control, they may lose each other. There are words for men and women who have lost their husband or wife and there are words to describe a child who has lost their father or mother but there is no word for someone who has lost their soulmate. People who have gone through this will often say that it was one of, if not the most, painful period(s) in their whole lives, but those who pull though and survive find themselves stronger and more confident of who they are as a person, so there is light at the end of the tunnel. Those who have suffered such a loss will often find good, no, best friends in others who have shared this sort of event. Sometimes a pair may fall in love by themselves without fate or words dictating their future and sometimes these friendships may end poorly. These are people whose destiny fate no longer dictates. They are free. But sometimes on rare occasions, just when they think they have escaped, fate intervenes once more._

* * *

 **AN. Hi Everyone! I hope you liked this chapter. :) Thank you isikiddo and . for following this story, KillerBread for adding this story to their favorites list, sherimi for reviewing the last chapter, and everyone who has taken the time to read this chapter and the last few chapters. Thank you for your support. It truly means so much to me. :)**

 **I hope you have/had a wonderful day and a great Memorial Day weekend. A huge thank you to our troops and their families who work so hard and sacrifice so much to keep us safe each and every day.**


	5. There is no Color for Loss

Natasha stepped out of the car and gazed silently at the house that stood before her. Normally so full of laughter and joy, what appeared in front of her now seemed to be the exact opposite. The house itself seemed to be an exact portrayal of the feelings of its lone owner and occupants.

"You okay Nat?" Steve asked as he moved to stand behind her, her bags clutched in his hands.

"It's them I'm worried about, Steve." She made a half-hearted attempt to grab one of her bags that he dodged before she even really moved. "You and I, well, we know what it's like to lose someone, but not like this. You know what happens to people in situations like this and I don't want it to happen to him. Not when his children need him. They already lost their mother; they shouldn't be forced to watch their father fade away as well."

Righting herself and straightening her shoulders, she took a deep breath and walked up to the door, Steve a silent yet steady and encouraging force behind her. "Auntie Nat!" A little girl threw open the door and raced out, throwing herself at Natasha.

"Oh you came! You came! I told Cooper you'd come today but he didn't believe me. He said you'd be too busy at work to come see us. But you're here, you're here!" Lila pressed her face into Natasha's neck, her tiny body beginning to shake. "It's so awful Auntie Nat. Please, please make it go away." She began to sob yet no tears appeared as she had already cried away all of her tears.

Natasha looked up to see Cooper standing in the doorway, their baby brother cradled in his arms. Although he tried to hide what he was feeling for the sake of his little sister, Natasha could see that his eyes were just as red as Lila's were and that he too was barely holding it together. Standing up she deftly shifted Lila to one side and motioned for Cooper to come to her. The young man seemed as if he wanted to ignore his aunt's offer of comfort and be the man of the house his family needed but he was only a child after all – a child who had just lost his mother, was in the processes of losing his father, and needed more than ever the love and comfort of a loved one.

"It's okay," she softly murmured as she held the three of them close to her, willing them to be strong. "It's going to be alright. I promise."

* * *

Natasha had sent Steve away as quickly as she could. Which of course meant after Steve had checked the whole premises to make sure they hadn't been compromised or bugged, played as best as he could with the children in an attempt to distract them and draw their minds away from what had happened and give them a happy memory of the day that they would be able to cling to, and asked Natasha a thousand times or more if she would be okay. It was only after she had grabbed his shoulders and told him, looking straight into his eyes, that she would be fine that he agreed to leave. And _that_ was only after he had extracted a promise from her that she would call him if she ever needed anything and answer his sporadic texts asking how everything was going as promptly as she could.

After she and the children had waved goodbye, she ushered them back into the house and sneaking a peak at the clock, realized that she had best start (attempting) to make dinner. So she left Cooper in the living room with the new book she had been saving for her next visit and asked him to read out loud to Lila and Nathaniel as she hurried into the kitchen. _Now what could I make to make them feel better?_ she wondered as she stared at the food in their fridge. Their mother was, no, had been an amazing cook and could make something scrumptious out of nothing. She, on the other hand, could cook, but the Red Room had never thought to include cooking lessons as part of her training, thinking that wherever she ended up, she would never have to set foot in a kitchen.

Sighing to herself at the situation she found herself in – being faced with a refrigerator that probably held every cook's dream yet unable to realize such dreams – she grabbed the baby tomatoes, mushrooms and ground meat from the fridge and laid them down on the counter before moving to the pantry to search for pasta and the homemade preserved tomato sauce she knew Laura always made plenty of. Spaghetti was one thing she knew she could not ruin.

As she stood staring at the pot, willing it to boil, she felt a tiny hand slip into her own. _Lila_ , she realized, without needing to check. Bending slightly she looked down at the little girl whose eyes were still rimmed with red. "Lila? Is something wrong? I thought Cooper was reading to you and Nathaniel while I attempted to make dinner." Natasha asked, concern seeping through her words. In spite of Natasha's kind words, Lila didn't make any effort to say anything. Instead she just gripped Natasha's hand a bit tighter and stepped closer to her aunt.

Natasha paused for a moment to consider the circumstances, not sure if she wanted to press and continue to ask Lila what was wrong or if it would be better to simply let it go. Yet when she took a closer look at the little girl who she considered her niece, she could see hints of tears being to appear again. She reached up behind herself to turn down the heat so the water wouldn't begin boiling as fast and then picked Lila up and moved to sit at the table in the kitchen where the family normally ate. "What is it, sweetheart?" she tenderly asked. "Please, Lila. You can tell me. You can tell Auntie Nat."

That was it. That was the straw that broke the camel's back, the drop of water that caused the dam to overflow. At Natasha's words Lila broke down once again and buried her face in Natasha's shoulder, soaking her red cotton shirt with her tears and making it a more vibrant shade of red, almost the exact color of blood.

"Oh, Auntie Nat." The little girl stammered trying to tell her aunt what was the problem but unable to talk as she was choked by her tears. "I just want it to go away! I want it to go far, far away and for this to be a bad dream. Please, Auntie Nat. Can't you wake me up and bring me back home?" She paused again, gasping for breath, Natasha's hand gently moving up and down her back the only thing preventing her from breaking into a million pieces. "It was horrible, Auntie Nat. Absolutely horrible," she whispered, lifting her face, tears still pouring down it.

Natasha reached over and snagged a towel, carefully using it to wipe her tears away. "What happened, darling?" she asked, as softly as she could in order not to agitate the little one any more than she was already.

"Mommy." Lila whispered, her pain and every emotion she possessed conveyed in that one word. "Daddy had told us that Mommy was really tired so Cooper and I were going to make her breakfast. You know, the kind she likes – French toast and strawberries with powdered sugar. So we woke up early and peeked into Mommy and Daddy's bedroom to make sure she was still asleep and since she was, we came downstairs and made breakfast. Then we took it upstairs and it was my job to wake her up while Cooper stood behind the door holding Mommy's tray. But she wouldn't wake up Auntie Nat. I tried and tried and tried. I tried calling for her, I tried bouncing on the bed, I tried tickling her like Daddy does sometimes but nothing worked! I even tried poking, Auntie Nat, but she wouldn't wake up!" She paused again this time beginning to tremble.

Natasha gathered the little girl into her arms and hugged her tight. "It's alright Lila. You don't have to tell me. Shh, shh. It'll be okay."

"No it won't, Auntie Nat." Lila vehemently shook her head. "And it's all our fault!" she cried, finally telling someone the burden she had borne for the past week.

"What?" Natasha asked, shock evident in her voice. "No Lila. No sweetheart. It's not your fault. Why would you ever think it's your fault?"

"Because the doctors said Mommy had been gone for a few hours before they examined her and if Cooper and I had been upstairs we could have heard her or done something. Don't you see Auntie Nat? Because we weren't there it's all our fault that Mommy's gone!" The words spilled out of Lila's mouth as her guilt and shame overtook her.

Natasha looked at Lila with a very serious look in her eyes. "Lila. What did the doctors say happened to your mommy?"

The little girl struggled to catch her breath. "A, an an-eur-y-smal" she paused, drawing in small breaths, struggling to say the long words, "sub-ar-achnoid hem-orrh-age," she finally said.

"An aneurysmal subarachnoid hemorrhage?" Natasha asked to make sure she had heard correctly. "Is that what the doctors told you?"

Lila nodded and blinked back more tears. "That's what Daddy said."

"And did anyone tell you what they are?" Natasha pressed.

This time, she shook her head, looking up at her aunt as if to ask why she was asking such silly questions.

"Oh Lila." Natasha breathed. "You couldn't have done anything to prevent that, sweetheart. Brain aneurysms aren't something you could give to your mommy or make her have. You had no control over it, so how could it be your fault?" She asked. "It's not. It could never be and will never be your fault." She told the little one sitting on her lap.

"But if we had just woken up earlier or finished making breakfast faster or gone and checked on Mommy while we made breakfast…" Lila started to protest.

"No, Lila." Natasha cut in. She didn't want to interrupt her, but she knew the path her niece was going down was a dangerous one and she didn't want her to continue living with survivor's guilt or the thought that it was her fault for any more time than she had already had spent. "It's not your fault. This was not your fault nor was it Cooper's. Okay?"

The little girl nodded but Natasha could tell she still blamed herself in the way she held herself and the way her hands were tightly folded in her lap.

Taking Lila's hands in her hands she looked at her. "Look at me, Lila. Please, look at me." When the little girl finally made eye contact, Natasha looked her straight in the eyes. "If you want to blame someone Lila, blame me. I could have been here and helped your mommy so she would have been less tired. And I could have woken you and Cooper up earlier and I could have helped you both finish making breakfast faster," she told her, her voice completely serious.

"But Auntie Nat," Lila protested. "That's silly! You were working. Why would you blame yourself when it wasn't your fault that you had work?" she asked, confused.

"Yes." Natasha agreed, "But I could have taken time off and spent more time with you guys but I didn't. So it's my fault."

"No it's not Auntie Nat. It's not your fault." Lila said adamantly.

Natasha smiled and took a breath. Maybe, just maybe, this could work. "Then if it wasn't my fault, then it can't be yours, Lila. Do you understand?" she asked, lifting one hand to gently brush back a lock of Lila's hair that had fallen in front of her face.

Lila looked down and nodded. "But Daddy blames us," she whispered.

Natasha took a sharp breath at that accusation. Clint loved his children. He would never blame them, but if Lila thought he did then… "Lila, sweetheart, where is your daddy?" she asked, as calmly as she could.

Lila shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. We buried Mommy and then we came back home and then he was gone. He just disappeared. Cooper doesn't know where he is either."

"So what have you been doing?" Natasha continued, scared of what the response might be. Based on some research she had done during the car ride to the farmhouse, Laura Barton had been buried two days ago. For the children to have been on their own, without their father, for two days - she couldn't imagine what it must have been like for them.

Lila shrugged again, giving Natasha the idea that she had distanced herself from that part of what had happened to her over the past five days. "Cooper's been taking care of the farm and I've been trying to take care of Nathaniel but Cooper helps as well."

Natasha swallowed, a knot in her throat at the thought of Cooper being forced to take care of the whole farm and Lila, young Lila, trying to take care of her baby brother. "And meals, what have you three been doing for breakfast, lunch and dinner?"

"Well, there's food in the fridge and there's lots of cereal in the pantry. And Mommy made lots of mashed food for Nathaniel that he likes so we've been giving him that." she said, so nonchalantly that they could have been discussing the weather.

Natasha was heartbroken they hadn't called her earlier. How could they have had to deal with the loss of their mother and the circumstances they had been faced with? Long ago she had promised herself to never knowingly let another child have to grow up too soon and now she was faced with her niece and nephews having had to go through that. "Well I'm here now," she said, righting her shoulder. "And I'll be here for as long as you need me."

She stood up balancing the little girl on her hip to check the water that was now rapidly and happily boiling. Adding the pasta to the water and starting to heat the sauce, she added, "First we're going to have dinner and then you, Cooper, and Nathaniel are going to bed. You've no doubt have a very long past few days and then I'm going to see if I can find your daddy."

 _I promise I will bring him back,_ she thought as she stirred the red tomato sauce. _No matter what, you all need your father and I will do anything in my power to bring him back home. He needs his family._

* * *

"Clint? Clint I know you're up here." Natasha gingerly picked her way through the hay and mishmash of objects that were stored in the hayloft that doubled as Clint's sanctuary. "Clint please come out!"

Off in the corner she could make out the shape of a man sitting hunched over, his feet hanging over the side, his head cradled in his hands.

"Clint?" Natasha made her way over to him but stopped before actually reaching him, making sure she was just outside of his reach. It wasn't that she was scared he would hurt her or that she would fall over the side (goodness knew she had fallen from higher heights before) but she didn't want to startle him or do anything that would make him lash out. "Your children, they're all alone and they need you to come home."

He looked up at her and his gaze lingered on her for a few moments but he gave no other response or indication that he had heard her.

The moment his eyes met hers she had to bite her lips to prevent herself from saying anything. If she hadn't known that the man who sat before her was Clint, she would have never recognized him. The man who sat there looked nothing like her best friend. The lessons the Red Room had given her had consisted of learning everything that was known about soulmates and she knew and had seen people who had lost theirs but nothing had prepared her for having to see him like that. His normally somewhat kept dirty blonde hair was in complete disarray, big dark bags hung beneath his eyes, his skin looked pale in the moonlight, and the look in his eyes – that was by far the worst. That haunted, dead look in his eyes as if he had lost the will to live and was simply waiting to die, that awful look was what scared her the most.

She stayed where she was and tried again, even though she was fairly certain it wouldn't work. "Clint. Please come inside. I, I know you haven't eaten in a while and there's spaghetti already made that I can heat up. Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel are already in bed. They ate, took a shower and were in bed by 9:30. They're going to be okay, a little shaken, a little scared but they're strong and they'll pull through."

At the mention of his children Clint looked up again and Natasha could see a glimpse of the Clint she knew, the Clint she loved still lingering in the man who sat before her wasting away.

She sat down and kept her eyes locked on him. "But they need their father. They need their daddy," she said as kindly as she could. "Lila and Cooper don't understand. They think it's their fault that Laura died and it isn't. It isn't anyone's fault. Not theirs, and definitely not yours." Her voice took on a harsher tone as she tried to get that point across. She knew Clint blamed himself for Laura's death and for not being there when she needed him most, and while she understood guilt more than anyone else, she knew that the idea that he wasn't culpable for Laura's death was something he needed to understand as soon as possible or else he would be entirely consumed by guilt. The repercussions of that guilt would be even worse than if he had just lost his soulmate.

"It's not your fault, Clint," she told him again with as much conviction in her voice as she could muster. "It never was and it never will be. I am sorry for your loss Clint, so so sorry. Laura is, no was, a wonderful and amazingly devoted and loving woman and I'm going to miss her forever. But there are children inside that house who need you and who in the past few days have had to grow up far too fast. So Clint, if you're in there, please just come back inside with me." Her voice carried strong until the end when it began to waver and shake. "Please come inside."

She sat there waiting for any indication that anything she had said had gotten through to him. When after nearly 20 minutes he had given her no hint that he had heard anything, her shoulders drooped and she started to get up.

"Did you – do you have a soulmark, Nat?" Clint suddenly asked her, his voice hoarse and quiet from underuse.

Natasha sat back down and bit her lip stalling for time. In a way she always knew that this moment would occur and over the years she had attempted to figure out what she could say to the man whose handwriting lay scribbled along her hairline but now, what could she possibly say to him now? "I did." She finally said.

"And how did that work out for you?" He bit out, venom seeping through his words.

Internally, Natasha breathed out a sigh of relief. If Clint was feeling something, anything, it gave her hope that he would be able to pull through this. "He had his own life," she began to explain, looking anywhere but at him. "And with my history, with everything I've done, who was I to intrude in on what was the perfect life for him?" She shrugged, one side of her mouth quirking up. "So I stayed away and never told him. After all, if he was happy, then I was happy." She knew she was fudging her history a bit, but in a sense everything she said was true.

Clint tried to bury his surprise at Natasha's confession. Over the years he had wondered about his partner and her seeming lack of a soulmark, but he had never wanted to broach the sensitive topic as he had never thought it was his place. But now, now he could understand what she had suffered a little more. "I'm sorry, Nat. I never realized what you had to go through," he finally said, looking at the woman who had been his partner and had had his back for the many years he had been a part of S.H.I.E.L.D., the woman who looked so sad and fragile in the moonlight as she sat beside him.

She looked up at him, emerald eyes meeting dark blue ones. "It's okay, Clint." She said, unsure of who the words she was saying were really meant for. "It's okay." She lifted her hand slightly as if wanting to touch him but then quickly lowered it, deciding that that was not a good idea. "You're going to be alright. You'll see."

 _Losing one's soulmate due to circumstances beyond both parties' control is not the same thing as losing one's soulmate to the eternal sleep called death. In the living separation of soulmates, each soulmate retains their mark which they can choose to cover up or allow it to be seen by everyone around them just as soulmates who are together often do. In that situation, as both parties are still alive, the mark remains. This is completely different from a situation involving the eternal loss of one's soulmate. While the separation described in the first example can be extremely painful, this sort of loss is far worse. In this type of loss, the remaining soulmate has lost the other part of what was basically their soul. In many cases this loss has led to depression, withdrawing from society, a lack of the will to live, and even in some cases death. Researchers have spent much time studying this topic and attempting to find a treatment, but for now it remains elusive. There is, however, some overlap between the two types of loss, best seen in the fact that those who survive the separation are no longer pawns to be moved by the hands of fate as it plays the game of life. The results from this group of outliers is quite promising and studies have shown that members of this group experience great success in finding life anew and on rare occasions, even find love again._

 **AN. Hi everyone! I hope you liked this chapter. :) I know it touched on some heavy things, so if you have any questions about what happened just message me or leave a review and I'll try to explain it as best I can. Thank you to Under the Blue Sea for reviewing, BrightWatcher, Padadarling, hailhaleybear, FelicityChaseGrangertheBabbler, and EmmaJarrett for following, and** **Under the Blue Sea,** **Padadarling,** **hailhaleybear,** **FelicityChaseGrangertheBabbler for adding this story to their favorites list, and to everyone who has clicked on this story and read it. Thank you for your support, it really does mean a lot. :) And a huge thanks to S. my wonderful beta and friend. I couldn't have posted this without your help.**

 **I hope you had/have a wonderful day! :)**


	6. Of Changing Colors

**Well, here we are. This chapter takes place directly before the first chapter. Thank you so much for sticking with me to reach this point. I can't wait to see where this story goes after this, it's going to be fun! (Or at least I hope it is… :) )**

* * *

When Natasha was a little girl, she had come across a strange phrase in one of her numerous storybooks – "time heals all wounds." It was a phrase she had struggled to comprehend as a child, and now even when to the rest of the world she was "all grown up" she still didn't fully understand the phrase. To her, it was the use of the word "heal". Time didn't heal all wounds because truthfully, there were just some wounds that time could never completely heal, but she would agree that time did _lessen_ the pain of such wounds. That was in part why she had spent a year at Clint's farm trying to get the family back on their feet. Clint had indeed come back with her and spent the entire next day with his children but after that, he had faded away again. He was physically present and when asked or talked to he responded back and gave the "right" answer but he, the real, actual Clint had disappeared. He wasn't the man who had spared Natasha's life, he wasn't the man who had been the beloved father of Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel, and he wasn't the loving husband that had treasured Laura with everything he had. The man who remained was a ghost. A mere specter of what had been. So while the plan had originally been that Natasha would stay for only a few weeks, at the end of that period she found she couldn't leave. She couldn't leave them the way they were – Clint broken and lost and the children having to fend for themselves. She still had so much red that needed to be wiped from her ledger, but she loved the children and Clint too much to leave. And so she stayed.

During their plane flight and car ride to Clint's house she had told Steve the whole story. It was a story, that much like how Clint's family and farm had been hidden from his records, yet from hers, it was of a soulmark that had been hidden from everyone in S.H.I.E.L.D. except for a select few – one of whom was dead now – and a secret that had remained safe after the destruction of the Red Room. So, when she called him late one night asking, no, telling him that she planned to stay for a bit longer than they had originally planned, his first reaction was to ask if she would be okay. She had told him she would be fine. How could she not? She had hidden it for so long that to her, while it still hurt, it was simply a part of her life. Just as the red she carried on her ledger was ever present so was the pain.

Over time, the five of them eventually settled into a pattern and the longer days and even longer nights seemed to become shorter and less excruciating as the days turned one by one. Cooper began to find enjoyment again in what he used to love doing, a love he had lost when he had been forced to grow up so quickly. Lila began to smile more and have fewer nightmares, and little Nathaniel began to walk. As Natasha stood on Laura's porch watching Laura's children play in the front yard, Natasha couldn't help but feel as if she were an intruder. Laura should have been there watching her children frolic in the fading light of April, Clint's arms securely wrapped around her as they watched their legacy, the story they would leave behind, grow right before their eyes. But Laura was no longer there and with her death, Clint too had left, his spirit disappearing, leaving only a broken man behind. A man who after bestowing cold kisses on the crowns of his children each morning, disappeared only to return each night after his children had gone to bed.

Natasha was lost as to what to do or what she could do to bring him back. She longed for the days when Clint had played with his children and he had truly been their father. She had tried everything that she and Steve would think of. Every time she failed, she felt as if she had as if she had failed Clint and his children and Laura once more. So instead she did the best she could to be everything Clint needed and everything Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel needed as well.

* * *

"Auntie Nat! Auntie Nat!" Hearing Lila scream Natasha looked up from the files she had been reading for Steve. She needed to give him her thoughts on the files later that night once the children had been tucked into bed while she waited for Clint to return. The children had been playing in the other room after having eaten their dinner, Cooper watching his younger siblings to allow Natasha to finish her briefs and come up with a few mission plans. As she had just checked on them a few minutes before hand she immediately thought the worst and dropping the briefs on the table, papers flying all over the ground, she raced into the living room thinking someone had been hurt.

"I'm here Lila." Natasha skidded to a stop. "What's wrong?" She asked cataloging everything. The three of them looked like they were all right – Cooper on the couch with a book, Lila and Nathaniel sitting on the ground, coloring.

"Nothing Auntie Nat." Lila said, confusion entering her voice as she looked at her panicking aunt. "Nathaniel," she stood up and helped her baby brother stand up, "wanted to give this to you. Go on, Nathaniel." She urged him with a gentle nudge. "Give the drawing to Auntie Nat."

Natasha watched as Nathaniel tottered over to where she stood and as he approached, she bent down and opened her arms. "Hi Nathaniel. Come here sweetheart. Come to Auntie Nat."

Nathaniel giggled and, waving his prize in the air, shouted with glee a word that would turn her world upside down. "Mama! Mama!"

Natasha dew a sharp breath and looked at Cooper and Lila who were now watching them with rapt attention. "No sweetheart. I'm not Mama. I'm Auntie Nat," she told him as he reached her and she picked him up. "That's your mama," she said, standing up and angling her body toward the picture of Clint and Laura on their wedding day that hung above their fireplace, showing it to him. "That's your mama," she repeated.

But it appeared that Nathaniel didn't understand what she was saying or just didn't want to listen as he simply nuzzled his face into Natasha's shoulder and repeated "Mama, Mama, Mama" over and over until sighing and murmuring Mama once more, the little boy fell asleep in Natasha embrace.

"I guess someone was a little tired from his day." Natasha told the two children who were staring at their aunt and their little brother, their expressions unreadable. "I'm going to take Nathaniel to his room." Natasha continued and glancing at the clock she realized it was much later than she had imagined. "And you too need to be going to bed soon as well. Alright?"

Lila and Cooper nodded. Placing a bookmark in his book, Cooper slid off the couch to help Lila put away the crayons and markers.

"I'll come check on you before you fall asleep. Thank you," Natasha whispered in an attempt to not wake up Nathaniel as well as to stay calm as she began to make her way towards the staircase. Ever since Nathaniel had called her "Mama", her world felt like it was spinning and while she had managed to keep a calm mask fixed on her face, internally she was panicking. Yet it the quick glance at the mirror to make sure she had Nathaniel securely in her arms and to push the hair that had fallen in front of her face back behind her ear that sent her truly into fight or flight mode. Just as one word had turned her world upside down, one quick glance at the mirror sent that world crashing down with no sign that it would ever stop until it was shattered into a billion pieces. She knew what that color symbolized, yet what was it doing coloring her words?

* * *

"Nat. Nat? Natasha, are you listening?" Steve called over the video as he watched Natasha pace aimlessly around her room, one hand mindlessly tracing the area where he knew her words were written and the other supporting that arm by holding on to her elbow.

"What?" Natasha asked looking over at Steve. "Oh, I, I think that sounds like a good plan. You might need more support on the ground, though. But I'd probably run a few simulations before you actually use it just to make sure it works." She told him moving to sit down, her hand still firmly cemented to the back of her neck.

"So, how are the children?" Steve asked moving some of his papers on his end.

"They're good." Natasha responded still distracted.

"And Clint?" Steve added.

"He's fine as well." Natasha told him.

"And Laura?"

"She's doing fine." Natasha said, her voice distant.

"Nat, what going on?"

"Nothing. Everything is perfectly fine here Steve. Why would you ask me that?"

"Don't lie Nat. I just asked you how Laura was and you said she was fine and the last time I checked, it would be very difficult for you to know that."

Natasha sighed. She had hoped to keep up her ruse at least until for at least the week in order to allow herself to figure out what exactly she should do, but if Steve could tell that something was wrong by simply talking to her over a video-conference; she wouldn't manage to keep up the façade in front of the children for a week. They'd be able to tell within a few days that something was wrong. Dropping her hand, her shoulders drooping, she asked, "How much do you know about colors and soulmarks, Steve?"

Steve was curious about the sudden change in subject, but having known and worked with Natasha for all these years, he knew that there was always a reason behind her actions, so she must have a good reason for this question as well. "I know that soulmarks and colors appear at birth and…" He was about to continue when Natasha whispered a question that laid bare every crack in her mask for him to see.

"And what do you know about color changes?"

"Color changes?" He repeated to make sure he had heard her correctly but rather than answering she simply nodded. "I didn't even know that those could happen."

Natasha shrugged one shoulder slightly before telling him what she knew. "They're rare. Extremely rare. I think perhaps they've only been documented a few times since man began to document soulmarks…" Her voice started to fade out, making it impossible for him to understand everything she was telling him.

Steve raised one eyebrow silently in response, asking her to clarify.

Natasha took a deep breath in an attempt to recompose herself before continuing. "Look." That one word conveyed the turmoil, confusion and pain she was feeling in that moment. She turned and brushed her hair aside.

Steve took a sharp breath when he finally processed what he was seeing. He had seen Natasha's mark before – white words scrawled in Clint's messy handwriting – yet what he now beheld was completely different. Yes, the words were the same and yes, the handwriting was exactly the same, but what had once been a perfect shade of creamy white that glistened in the light now was a glittering pink, the type of pink that he had only heard about in stories and myths, pink words that now adorned the back of Natasha's neck. "Nat," he breathed out, temporarily at a loss for words.

"I don't know what to do anymore Steve." Natasha finally confided in him, her mask stripped away, revealing not just the woman who had hidden her words from her soulmate since she met him, who was now taking care of his children and fighting so hard to bring their father back, who had tried so hard to wipe all the red from her ledger, but also the young woman who felt and bore the weight of losing and staying away from her soulmate for his own good and the young girl who had been forced to act in ways no child should ever have to. "You know what pink words mean as well as I do. White ones were bad enough, but pink? How could I, Natalia Romanova, the Black Widow, have pink words?"

"Okay. It's going to be alright, Nat. We'll figure out what to do," Steve consoled her, pulling out a pad and pen to begin brainstorming.

Smiling brokenly, Natasha responded, "Steve. Don't try to fool me or yourself. You know as well as I do what the only possible thing that can be is…" she trailed off, not wanting to voice what they both knew.

"I know. But I promise, Nat, you'll be alright. Everyone will be alright," he promised her, even though he knew he could have very well made the first promise he wouldn't be able to keep.

Natasha looked down at her hands that were now clasped in her lap before sliding the mask she had worn for so long back on. "Well, who knows. This may be exactly what Clint needs to come back." And while her face conveyed one story, if you knew her and looked into her eyes, you could see just how painful this idea and what she knew she had to do and would be doing to those she loved was.

 _Most soulmarks never change. They do gradually disappear after the death of a soulmate, but the phenomenon of a complete change in color has only been recorded a handful of times. No one knows exactly why they change, and while researchers have attempted much research on this subject, this has not produced very many answers either. One fact that is known for sure is that in those very few cases where soulmarks have changed colors, they did change to pink._

 _Reference: Hadley Richardson, Joséphine de Beauharnais_

* * *

 **AN. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! :) I just wanted to say thank you to JET1967 and SoeinLeser for reviewing (** **SoeinLeser, I'm so glad you found this story again, I hope you were able to find it this time as well; I do plan on continuing it. :) ), stimmerwho, LittleeOne, living-with-feels, joana . silva .391, Mockingjay34, and Queen of the Lizard People for following this story, JET1967, Kumin, Mockingjay34, and Queen of the Lizard People for adding this story to their favorites list, and to everyone who has taken the time out of their day to read this story. Your support truly means so much to me and I could never thank you all enough. Finally a huge thank you to S. my wonderful friend and beta who not only helps my ramblings to be understandable but also puts up with my plethora of questions.**

 **I hope you had/have a wonderful day and I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter. Thank you all again!**


	7. Of Passing Time

Month 1

"Cooper! Lila! Are you ready to go?" Clint called up the stairs to his children, who were enjoying some of June's last days.

"Coming!" Lila responded as she and Cooper raced down the hall and slid down the banister of the old farmhouse. "Are you coming with us, Daddy?" she asked as she grabbed her sneakers from the shoe rack.

"No, I…" Clint trailed off, unsure of what to say. He didn't want to lie to his children, but he also didn't want to tell them that he wasn't going with them.

"No, of course he's not coming, Lila. Why would he? He has better things to do than spend time with his children," Cooper bit out, his mouth set in a hard line.

"Cooper!" Clint all but gasped. "I never…"

"You never what, Dad?" Cooper asked, turning on him.

"Don't use that tone with me, young man." Clint now glared at his son. "You know…"

"Don't start, Dad." Cooper cut him off, not wanting to hear to same excuses he had heard a thousand times before. "Lila, I'm gonna go grab the blanket and Nate's stroller from the garage. Bring Nate out with you."

"Okay." Lila nodded, making sure that her shoes were tied securely and would not slip off her feet. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us, Daddy?" Lila asked again.

"I'm sorry, Lila, but there are some other things that I need to do. Do you understand?" Clint apologized vaguely as he bent down so they could see eye to eye.

Lila sighed, her shoulders drooping and the excitement that had been so present in her seeping away. "Yes, Daddy," she whispered.

"Good girl." Clint told her, patting her head. "Now go have fun with your brothers. I made each of you your favorite sandwiches."

"Really?" Lila's eyes began to gleam with hope once more.

"Really." Clint confirmed, handing her the basket. "Now go. The day's a wastin'."

"Okay, Daddy," she said as she grabbed Nathaniel's hand, walking out the door. "Bye!"

"And there's supposed to be a clown and a petting zoo and even a roller coaster!"

"Mhm." Cooper murmured as he continued to push Nathaniel's stroller up the hill.

"Doesn't that sound fun, Cooper?" Lila asked as she skipped beside her brothers, swinging the picnic basket back and forth.

"Yes it does." Cooper answered absentmindedly as he avoided a rather large rock jutting out from the side of the hill.

"And maybe Daddy could come!" Lila exclaimed excitement and hope bleeding into her words and onto her face. "Wouldn't that be the best, Coop?"

That stopped Cooper in his tracks. While he never wanted to give Lila false hope, everything that she had said before that were things that could possibly happen. But their dad? That was a completely different story. While he could deal with being disappointed over and over again by the man their dad had become, he couldn't and wouldn't put up with Lila being hurt. So taking a deep breath, he attempted to rationalize his thoughts and calm down a bit before he said anything to his little sister.

"Lila." He put the brakes on the stroller and, mimicking their father, knelt down so the two of them were the same height. "What gave you that idea?"

Lila shrugged, not sure why he was asking that. "Well, he wanted to come," she started to explain.

Cooper gently pried the picnic basket from her hand and putting it on the ground, grabbed both her hands with his larger ones. "Did he _say_ that?"

He asked, his eyes completely serious.

"Well, he – he didn't exactly say that," she stuttered, "but I could tell he wanted to!" She quickly recovered, although she was beginning to be frightened by the dark look taking over her brother's eyes.

"That doesn't mean anything, Lila!" Cooper finally exploded, all the anger and hurt he had felt about his mom's death, their father's "disappearance", and their Aunt Natasha's departure, finally bursting out of him.

"You of all people should know that words mean nothing! Nothing. If they meant something, anything, Mom would still be here, Dad wouldn't act like a ghost every second he's around us, and Auntie Nat, well she'd be here as well. But they're not. So please," he deflated slightly grasping her hands ever more firmly as if begging her never to let go, "Don't get your hopes up. I don't want to see you get hurt again."

They stayed there, frozen like that – Cooper kneeling before Lila, their hands clasped together – for what seemed to be a lifetime before Lila wrenched her hands free from Cooper's and threw them around his neck pulling him into a tight hug.

"But I'm still here, Cooper," she whispered. "I'll always be here whether you like it or not. I'm your sister."

Cooper felt a small smile emerge on his face; the first true smile he had smiled since he and Lila had raced down the stairs that fateful morning to find their aunt gone with only the letters she had left behind to remind them that she had ever been there.

"I know. I know, Lila," he murmured into her hair.

Lila hugged him once more before letting go and grabbing the picnic basket off the ground. "Come on Cooper! I'll race you to the top. I'm starving!" she called behind her as she took off towards the old oak tree that proudly stood at the top of the hill.

"Lila, that's not fair! You had a head start and I have to push Nate!" he cried as he struggled to quickly remove the breaks and race after her. That was his sister. That was his Lila.

"Geez, Coop. What took you so long?" Lila asked from her seat on the blanket under the great branches of the tree. "Are you getting old already?" she teased, reminding him more than ever of their Aunt Nat and the many stories she had shared with them of her _old_ friend Captain America.

"Well, somebody took off before even telling me we were racing." Cooper looked at her out the corner of his eye as he unbuckled Nathaniel, who immediately took off toward the blanket and his sister.

"Sorry." Lila grinned sheepishly up at her older brother. "But I was hungry and Daddy said he made each of us our favorite sandwiches."

"Really/" Cooper asked, intrigued. Maybe, just maybe, Lila was right to hope that their dad was getting better. He and Lila had very different tastes when it came to sandwiches, something their dad had always remembered before but once their mom had died, he had been so consumed by grief that he had forgotten everything about his children. It had been a miracle in and of itself that Aunt Nat had managed to convince him to see them briefly each morning before he disappeared to who knew where. But if he was beginning to remember, perhaps it wouldn't be wrong to begin to hope again.

"Well, bon appétit." Cooper told Lila who was handing Nathaniel his lunch – mashed potatoes and baked carrots – as he grabbed the sandwich that bore his name. Unwrapping it he could imagine the taste of rye bread, roast beef, mozzarella cheese and 2 slices of tomatoes. But to his unfortunate surprise – although if he were completely honest with himself he had expected it – what he found wrapped inside the wax paper bearing his name was not a tomato, mozzarella cheese, roast beef sandwich on rye but rather ham, American cheese and tomatoes on rye bread.

"Lila," he said, attempting to keep his voice calm, quiet, and controlled so as not to clue her into what was wrong, "could I see your sandwich?"

Lila looked down at the package she now held in her hand and was about to unwrap. 'Okay?" she said in response to her brother's odd request and handed it to him. "I'll go make sure Nathaniel's enjoying his lunch."

"Thanks," he said with a wide smile on his face that he knew seemed fake. "I'll give it right back to you."

While Lila's back was turned away from him, he quickly unwrapped her sandwich and just as he expected in it lay a roast beef, mozzarella and cucumber sandwich on whole wheat bread. _Oh, Dad,_ he murmured, making quick work of taking the sandwiches apart and putting them back together again with the correct ingredients, the ingredients that should have been on the sandwiches in the first place. _And just when I was beginning to hope. You just had to go and ruin it, didn't you Dad?_

"What?" Cooper was startled out of his musings by Lila's question. "Were you saying something, Cooper?"

Cooper looked at his little sister. He couldn't do it to her; he couldn't break the unwavering trust she had in their dad. "No. I didn't say anything. Here's your sandwich Lil." He passed her the now fixed, correct sandwich.

"Thanks," she said, accepting it. Yet to his surprise, she didn't open, it but rather placed it beside her and leaned toward him, staring straight into his eyes. "What were you doing Cooper?"

"Nothing," he smiled, putting an innocent look in his face to try and place a sense of truth into his words. "I just wanted to see if Dad cut all of the sandwiches into rectangles or triangles." He made up the excuse right on the spot, and, hearing it winced at the oddness of his so-called reason.

"And what did you find?" Lila asked with a tilt of her head as if she had truly bought his excuse.

"Rectangle," he said quickly before turning away to reopen his sandwich and begin eating it. (Mainly to escape the conversation, but if he began eating, Lila would never know that.)

"Cooper." Lila said, so quietly that he almost missed it. "You don't have to lie to me. I'm not the little girl who sat here a year ago. I'm older. I understand more now." Then with a quick glance to her sandwich she added, "He didn't make it right, did he."

Cooper shook his head. "No. He got all of the ingredients right, but mixed them up." He shrugged, one side of his mouth pulling to the side with regret.

Lila leaned back and picked up her own sandwich. "I thought so." She whispered.

"You thought so?" Cooper asked a hint of disbelief seeping into his question.

"Dad remembering how to make our favorite sandwiches? Cooper, Dad's better but he's not that well." Lila answered, unwrapping her sandwich.

"Then why act as if," he started.

"as if he were better?" Lila continued Cooper's question. "I thought that maybe, just maybe if I pretended that he was Daddy again it would be true." She sighed, her whole body seemingly wilting at the truth. "What are we going to do, Cooper?"

"We'll get through it. Same as always," he said, moving to sit besides her. She placed her head on his shoulder just as she always did when they sat side by side.

"Hey, look at me," he asked her gently. "Come on, Lil. Look."

When she finally did look at him, he could see the fear she had hidden for so long in her doe brown eyes.

"We're gonna be fine, Lila. Dad's getting better just like you said. Yeah, it's not the same as it used to be, but Aunt Nat wouldn't have left unless she had known for sure that Dad would be able to take care of us. And I trust Aunt Nat. We're going to be fine Lila. Dad, he'll get better. I promise."

"I know," she said with a small smile for their future and when she saw the confused look on his face she explained, "that's what big brothers do."

* * *

Month 6

"Nat?" A quiet voice carried across the silent room to where Natasha sat on her window seat, a framed picture clutched in her hand although she wasn't looking at it but rather out at the night sky.

Natasha jerked slightly as that single syllable startled her back to reality, back to earth. Looking away from the stars that shone so gently, she turned to see Wanda standing in her doorway nervously playing with her hands as if she had done something wrong.

"Wanda." Natasha said a soft smile appearing on her face in an attempt to relieve some of the nervousness she could feel in the air. "What are you doing standing there? Come inside. It's the same rules that it's always been. As long as the door isn't closed, feel free to just come in."

A real smile broke out on Wanda's face, a smile Natasha and Steve had worked so hard to bring back out of the shadows that had been left behind after Pietro's death, and she raced over to Natasha's bed, bouncing slightly as she, with one graceful and fluid motion, grabbed one of Natasha's pillows and pulled it close to her chest. Growing up, Pietro had always been the more outspoken and charismatic one. The one who stood in the spotlight, the one who, even if he was 12 minutes older than her, seemed at times months younger. So it came as no surprise that Wanda had become the quieter one of the pair. The thinker, the more mature twin, the one who stood in the background making sure her brother didn't do anything too silly or irrational. After their parents' deaths, while they had both been forced to grow up far too quickly, Wanda had not only been thrust into adulthood when she should have been able to simply been a child, but to, at times, act like Pietro's older sister – a role that had been stolen from her in one moment and left her lost and reeling in the wake of Pietro's death. It had been something that Steve and Natasha had recognized in Wanda's eyes – the look of a child begging to be set free yet at the same time lost and scared of what the world held – as it was a look they had both encountered many times and had even worn. So they had taken it upon themselves to allow Wanda the chance to be the free and happy young woman she would have been, had that weapon never landed near her house, changing her life with one push of a button.

Before Natasha had, left Wanda would regularly come to her room to just talk or even to simply enjoy the presence of one of her teammates. Yet since Natasha had returned to the team. trying so hard to make everything appear as if it were normal, and that nothing had happened (even though everyone could see that something had occurred and that something was wrong), Wanda had tried to stay away and not bother Natasha. She couldn't bother her with her problems when she knew that Natasha had her own burdens and wounds that lay open and unhealed. But now, on one of the nights she missed her older brother the most, she just wanted – craved – the presence of an older sister. Yes, she could have gone to Steve, but somehow she knew that would be too painful. On any other night it would have been fine, perfect even, but not on this day. Besides, sometimes she just needed another female to talk to, especially after being the only one of the team for over a year. And perhaps Natasha needed someone to talk to as well.

'What's wrong?" Natasha asked, leaning against her cherrywood headboard.

"I missed you." Wanda shrugged, pulling the pillow closer to her. "It just wasn't the same without you."

Natasha's eyes softened at the confession. "I missed you too."

For a while that was all that was said, Wanda fighting back the doubt that had resurfaced over bothering Natasha with her problems when she obviously had her own devils that she was fighting with and Natasha's desire to not push Wanda to open up if she didn't want to. Natasha had been in Wanda's position before and knew just how troubling and painful it could be if someone pushed too hard.

"I miss him," Wanda said, finally breaking the silence that had fallen on them. "I know he's been gone for a while and I know I should be used to not having him right next to me every time I turn around for him or not having him race up next to me to help before I even ask for help, but tomorrow's Christmas. It's, was, our, my, his favorite holiday. And I just miss him."

Natasha took a deep breath. Was she really the best person to go to for this? She fought the urge to look over at her nightstand where she had placed the photo of Lila, Cooper, and Nathaniel she had taken last Christmas. That Day had been hard on all of them but she had been determined to give them a happy day and the smile that wore in the picture was one that could not be faked. She could only hope that Clint had returned enough in order to give them the Christmas she wished they would be having. How she wanted to be out there with them! A part of her knew she would have given up anything to be there yet the rational, more reasonable side knew that that had the potential and most probably would have be a disaster. The pull of the white words she had been used to, but pink, that was a different story. So for the sake of the children, how could she truly help them when her hands were still stained with so much red. For Clint's sake, she knew she would and could never replace Laura, but she'd rather disappear forever than have Clint ever think that, and a tiny bit for her own sake, she wouldn't bear it if they found out and hated her for it, she stayed away. Natasha was still trying to figure out how to respond that would provide they young woman with the most comfort when she realized that Wanda had never actually finished saying everything she wanted to say.

"And I know you miss them. I see it in your eyes and written on your face so clearly every day, and I was just wondering, I wanted to know, I was hoping you could tell me how you get through it. How do you manage, Nat?" She looked over at her friend, begging her to tell her how to escape the world she now found herself a part of.

This Natasha knew how to answer. How could she not when she had done exactly that for so many years? Natasha scooted over to where Wanda sat. "You hope." She said taking Wanda's hands in her own, just as she would have done with Cooper or Lila. "You hope that wherever they are, they are happy. You laugh at all the things they would have found funny, even when it hurts, and even when you think laughing is wrong, because they would want you to be happy. You love everyone around you with the love they would have given you and everyone around them because, while they might not be here, they loved. Finally you live." Natasha gently lifted Wanda's face so she could look her in the eyes. "You live for them. For their hopes, their dreams, and their wishes. You live because they would want you to and because in the end, living is the best thing you can do. Laugh, love, and live, Wanda. It's what Pietro would have wanted for you."

After a minutes Wanda nodded her head. "It is, isn't it? Well if I'm going to live, then what better day to start than today?" she, asked partially to herself and partially to Natasha.

Setting her mouth firmly in a line, determination evident in the way she sat and moved, "Come on!" she exclaimed, grabbing Natasha's hand as she jumped up. "They'd want you to live too, Nat," she gently told her. "Come downstairs with the team. We all missed you."

"Alright." Natasha finally agreed happy to see that Wanda was feeling a bit better and knowing that she was correct. They wouldn't ever want her to spend Christmas along in her room, away from everyone else, mourning everything that had happened and everything she could not change. Yes, they'd want her, their Auntie Nat, to be happy.

As Wanda steadily tugged her out of her room, Natasha's eyes fell onto the framed picture she had been holding. "Merry Christmas Cooper, Lila, Nathaniel and Clint," she whispered ever so quietly. "I hope you are happy. I love you."

* * *

Month 12

"Daddy, come on! By the time we get there, it's going to be dinner time," Lila called back to her dad from where she and Cooper were standing, watching their dad and little brother gingerly make their way up the hill.

"Are you calling me old, Lila Barton?" Clint asked, a smirk climbing across his face as he swept Nathaniel up on her his shoulders and started to run towards her.

"Cooper!" she cried as she ran away from him. "Help me! Help!"

But all Cooper did was laugh. Making his way towards his dad he held his hands out for Nathaniel and, once he had been securely transferred, motioned with one hand to actually chase after Lila. "Go get her Dad. You can do it!"

"I'm not that old, am I Lila?" Clint asked as he caught her and lifted her off the ground, swinging her around just as he had done so many times when she was a child. "Say it, Lila," he teased as he began to tickle her. "Say it!"

"You're. Not. That. Old. Daddy!" Lila attempted to say and then sighed with relief when he finally relented. Glaring up at Cooper who was standing nearby, helping Nathaniel clap his hands with glee and laughing himself, she stuck her tongue out at him and said, "Traitor."

"But you love me anyways." Cooper responded, ruffling her hair with a grin. "You have to."

"But that doesn't mean I have to like you." Lila responded, taking his proffered hand and using it to pull herself off the ground.

Cooper was willing to concede that point. "True. But you do anyway."

Lila was about to respond when their dad cut in. "If you two are done with your sparring, lunch is out, I'm hungry and so is Nate, and it isn't even 1 o'clock yet."

Cooper shot Lila another grin, which she returned with a roll of her eyes. But they knew that if given the chance they could have carried on bantering with each other for hours and that their dad had been correct in stopping them. If had hadn't done that, it very well could have been dinnertime before they stopped to eat. Grabbing the sandwiches that bore their names they quickly unwrapped it and were happy to find their favorite sandwiches sitting on the wax paper.

"Thanks Dad. You're the best." Cooper told his dad before taking a huge bite of his sandwich.

"Thank you Daddy. Love you!" Lila smiled up at him before beginning to eat, both making comments about how good the sandwiches were.

As Clint watched his children and ate his own sandwich, he could imagine Laura sitting next to him, his arm thrown around her shoulder, her head leaning against it, smiles dancing on their faces as they watched the children they would give or do anything for simply live and joy life. While Laura was no longer physically there with them and, while there were days when her absence struck him far harder than even a strike from Thor's hammer or a blow from the Hulk, paralyzing him with a sense of guilt and loss he had to wade through to even interact with the world around him, today was not one of those days. Today, instead of hearing Laura begging to know why he had failed her as he had heard so many times before, she was instead whispering how proud she was of him and their children and just how much she loved them.

* * *

"Nat, are you ready to go?" Wanda asked, knocking on Natasha's door.

"One minute!" came the reply, accompanied by a rather loud thump.

Wanda stared at the door confused by what could be taking place behind it. Normally Natasha was waiting for her, yet today the board had seemingly been flipped and instead it was herself, the girl whose internal clock the team teased was constantly running a few minutes behind those of everyone else, was waiting for the person who was constantly ready far before anyone actually had to be getting ready. "Is everything okay Nat?" she called, louder this time.

"Everything's fine!" Natasha yelled this time, even though it was muffled. "You know you can come in if you wanted to, Wanda."

Wanda's eyebrows shot up as she heard another loud thunk and a noise she couldn't place. "No thanks. I think I'm perfectly fine out here. Out here where it's safe." She murmured the last part under her breath.

"You know I can hear that." Natasha said, cracking open her door, not a curl out of place or out of breath as Wanda had assumed she would be, based on what she had just heard.

"What were you doing, Nat?" Wanda wondered, curiosity coloring her voice.

Natasha opened her door and allowed Wanda to see her room, which was perfectly clean, not an item out of place – the exact opposite of what Wanda had been imagining Natasha's room would have been looking like. "I couldn't find the clutch Pepper bought the last time we went shopping," she explained, rolling her eyes. "So I had to dig through the closet until I found it. But I did!" she smiled, holding up the gold lamé clutch.

"You spent that whole time looking for a purse?" Wanda asked, laughing, amazed that Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow, would spend so much time and effort looking for a purse.

Natasha allowed a sheepish smile to appear on her face. "Just wait, Wanda. You'll be in my position one day and we'll see who's going to be laughing then," she teased, nudging her with her shoulder. "Now come on. We're going to be late."

"And whose fault would that be?" Wanda asked, jogging after Natasha.

"Well," Natasha said pausing for a moment to let Wanda catch up to her and think, "since Pepper was the one who gave me the clutch, we could say it was Pepper's fault," she said with such a mischievous grin that it caused Wanda to dissolve into laughter again making them even later than they already were.

* * *

"So Wanda, how are you liking the team now that you've been able to fully settle in?" Maria asked cutting a piece veal. "Is it better now?"

Wanda looked up from her seafood alfredo and nodded. "It's a lot better now. I don't know how you did it," she said turning to Natasha. "Being on a team of all men for so long."

"A lot of patience, good wine and Friday nights away from everyone." Natasha laughed and shot a glance at Pepper who knew exactly what she was referring to. "But it is better now that you're part of the team, Wanda. There's finally another female on the team."

"I'm glad you're back too." Wanda murmured, so quietly that only Natasha could hear it causing her to shoot a small smile towards the young woman that had become her teammate.

"So, while I know it's against the rules, I'm dying to know." Pepper began laying down her fork and knife which forced Maria, Wanda and Natasha to exchange looks. What was Pepper about to ask?

"So Wanda, a little birdie mentioned something about you and a special friend?" she asked, her eyes opened wide, as she tried to look as innocent as possible.

"Pepper!" Maria exclaimed, scandalized. "You know that's against the rules. On OFOFs we don't talk about guys or possible relationships. There is a reason why we called it "Only Females on Fridays.""

"I know. But come on, Maria. Aren't you just dying to know what's going on? Besides, we've had to cancel the last 2 OFOFs due to work or current events and it's not necessarily looking better for the next four weeks either. And I know you and I see each other almost every day, but we hardly ever have the chance to see Nat and Wanda. Who knows the next time we'll all be together?" Pepper explained, attempting to explain why she had asked before looking towards Natasha and begging her for help.

"She's right, Maria," Natasha added softly.

"You, you're agreeing to this?" Maria asked, turning on Natasha. "You're the one who proposed this rule in the first place."

"I know. And I still think it's a good rule, an excellent rule, but Pepper is right when she said she doesn't know the next time we'll all be together and free to meet up," Natasha hesitantly proposed.

"What?" Wanda exclaimed, finally saying something after getting the traitorous red that had stained her cheeks to disappear. "You're leaving again?" she asked reading in between the lines at what Natasha was trying to convey, but didn't want to say out loud.

"Steve was going to talk to everyone about it tomorrow," she said, as gently as she could. "We've been receiving reports about things that have been going on but shouldn't, so Steve wants to go investigate and given the type of actions that have been happening, he thought it would be best if he and I just go look into it."

Everyone knew she was leaving out many details and while many of them wanted to ask her to further explain what had been happening, due to their location – a restaurant in New York City – that was probably best.

"Tony should be getting a phone call tonight asking if he can come in and hear about what's been going on. While Steve and I are away we were hoping that he wouldn't mind stepping in for a while and helping out." Natasha explained looking at Pepper. "We won't be leaving immediately, but once everything's been figured out and organized, we'll be here for a few days and gone for a few weeks and so on until we can actually figure out what is happening and how to stop it."

Natasha looked down at her hands, which she had been trying to keep still during her whole explanation. "This wasn't the way we wanted to tell everyone but, that's okay." She looked up at her friends who were staring at her.

"Are you sure?"

"What about back up?"

"Why just you and Steve?" they all began asking at once before Natasha held up her hand, trying to get them to slow down.

"Steve will be calling everyone tomorrow asking them to come in and he'll explain everything then. I promise," she told them instead of going into more details.

"Okay," Pepper agreed, sighing while Maria just nodded, the SHIELD side of her used to these types of missions, even though the side of her who called Natasha a friend rather than an asset wished they weren't needed.

"But you've only been back for a year," Wanda whispered sadly. "What is something happens to your or Steve and no one's there to help you?"

"I know. I know it feels like I just got back, Wanda. But there are people out there who need our help, and I can't let Steve go out there by himself. We'll be back though. Don't worry about us, okay? Besides," she said, a grin emerging on her face, "you and Vision, Rhodey and Sam will be just fine without us. You'll have so much fun, you'll bond together as a team, and even save the world a few times while we're gone that you won't even notice we're not there. All of you will be just fine. I know you will."

Maria, who had picked up on Natasha's emphasis on the words "You and Vision", raised an eyebrow to make sure she was correct which Natasha confirmed with the slightest of nods.

"Well, I guess we can suspend the rules for just one night." Maria conceded with a small smile and a gentle nudge of her foot against Wanda's. "Go on. Do tell us about you and your special friend."

* * *

"So which movie did you girls want to see again?" Pepper asked as they left the restaurant.

"Something funny." Wanda requested.

"Something that passes the Bechdel test." Maria added.

"Something," Natasha was going to chime in before something caught her eye. Walking down the street were three children and their father. Three children that looked to be the exact same age of those she had left behind. Unconsciously, her hand raised and her fingers glided just once over her words before resting gently over all of them, covering them from her friends and the world.

 _I hope you're happy. I hope you're laughing and smiling and living. I hope you're loving and enjoying life. I do love all of you,_ she thought as Pepper's question of "Nat?" brought her back from the farm to the streets of New York City.

"Something, something sweet sounds good."

 _No matter how hard one tries, the hands of time cannot be stopped. Time will pass without anyone being able to stop it. Babies will be born, children will grow older, soulmates will meet and soulmates will die. There is no stopping time. Yet it is time and the passage of time that ultimately brings soulmates together. Time and fate. Without the movement of time no soulmate would ever meet the one that completes them and makes them whole. So while time does steal way those loved, it is time that brings them into a person's life and lets them share a life together in the first place._

* * *

 **AN. I'm sorry this took so long to post. I do hope that you enjoyed this chapter though. I wanted to move the story forward a little more quickly and to show how time has brought change to both the Barton family and Natasha. I just want to say a huge thank you to sherimi, eClair23, and SoeinLeser for reviewing (SoeinLeser** **I'm so glad you liked the past chapter and I hope you liked this one as well. :) )** **, Lucy Annabeth Potter, JET1967, jeepchick89, kkrrista, ScouserPants, eClair23, and Death is inevitable for following this story, jeepchick89 and eClair23 for adding this story to their favorites list, and to everyone who has taken the time out of their day to read this chapter. Thank you all for your support. :)**

 **Finally a huge thanks to S. my amazing beta who not only makes what I write understandable but took the time during a competition to beta this for me. Thank you for all you've done and I'm so proud of how you did! :)**

 **I hope you had/have a wonderful day and I'd love to hear what you thought of this chapter. (I'm sorry if it seemed a little slow; a lot of time needed to be covered. :/ ) Thank you all again! :)**


	8. The Color Green

"3, 2, 1. Ready or not, here I come!" Cooper yelled as he raced out of the house to get a good view of the landscape. While he had lived in the same house on the same farm for 13 years – all his life – he would have to take a more critical lens to the place he called home because he and Lila were once again playing hide and seek. If he knew his sister (and he obviously did) he knew she would never hide inside the house. No, Lila was too much like their dad and loved the outdoors too much to hide inside the house on such a nice April morning. However, he was her older brother and while he most probably could find her within the first five places he would search, he was forced to look inside the house first. He was her Cooper after all.

Moving systematically through the house first he checked the living room, then the dining room (making sure to check under the table just in case, as it had been her favorite place to hide when she had been much younger), and then the pantry, which was finally all in order again after the roller coaster of the last year it had been put through. Knowing she wouldn't be in any of the other rooms on the first floor, he didn't even stop to check, but instead made his way up the stairs. Peeking into their father's room, he didn't see anything hinting that she had been in there. Glancing into Nate's room (his dad had taken Nate out to pick up the groceries) he saw nothing out of place, so she hadn't been in there either. Just when he was about to head outside, he saw it out of the corner of his eye.

There lay the open door to the attic, beckoning him to find her like a beacon. The attic that no one ever went into. The attic where their father had stored all of their mother's personal belongings and most of their Aunt Nat's things she had left behind during her earlier trips, trips that had occurred before the ill fated last one that had ended with her fleeing and disappearing during the middle of the night. He did know that while his dad had packed away nearly everything that reminded him of their Aunt Nat, his partner, he had kept the letter she had written for him in his nightstand beside his bed. He and Lila had been playing hide and seek one time and had seen the letter, creased and crinkled as if it had been read time and time again, peeking out, ever so slightly, from the drawer. He would have recognized that handwriting anywhere. It was the writing that adorned every single book she had ever given him, the notes she had written and hidden in his backpack every morning during the year she had stayed with them, and the same exact writing that danced across the letter he kept stored under his mattress. He and Lila had photocopied it and hidden the original in the treasure chest they kept hidden in his closet and had put their copies under their respective mattresses. "So she can tell us good night and tuck us in every night." Lila had explained what she wanted to do. But what was Lila doing in the attic? She hated the smell of old air, so for her to be willingly spending time in there…Cooper was more than slightly worried and that concern caused him to walk the tiniest bit faster as he made his way towards the door.

"Lila?" he called into the vast expanse. "Lila? Are you in here?" He knew she was, she had to be due to the open door, but he wanted confirmation.

"Lila!" He said slightly exasperated when his eyes, having finally fully adjusted to the dimly lit room, landed on his little sister sitting by a trunk holding a book.

"Cooper!" Lila exclaimed in surprise. "Look what I found." She waved the baby blue book in the air.

"You know, Li, if you wanted to read, you could have just told me," he teased as he maneuvered around the various boxes and suitcases and trunks that had been stored in the attic over the years. _When did we get that marionette puppet?_ he idly wondered as he finally made it over to where Lila sat beaming up at him.

"It's not _just_ a book Cooper! It's…it's…" Lila stuttered, struggling to get the words out, however her excitement proved to be too great to contain. "Just look!" she finally exclaimed, tossing the well loved blue book up towards his face.

Surprised by the sudden projectile, yet unsurprised to find something once again hurling towards him – he and Lila both had perfect aim and as children had often practiced by tossing objects at one another – he caught the potentially offending object with one hand.

"Little off there, Lil?" he teased, winning an annoyed face from his sister and a gentle punch to his arm.

"Just look at it, Cooper," the nine year old replied, sounding every bit like the teenager she wasn't yet.

Sitting down next to her, he leaned against the chest and cracked open the book.

 _August 29, 1988_

 _I met him! I really, absolutely, truly, cross my heart and hope to die met him! He's the most amazing person ever and he has my writing, yes Diary, my writing written around his forearm. I'm so excited I could scream, but I better not because then Mom and Dad would race in here and demand what was wrong and just for now I want to keep this a secret between you, my dearest and oldest friend, and him, my new best friend._

 _Your friend,_

 _Laura_

 _P.S. Did I mention his name is Clint? Clinton Barton. Who knows. Maybe one day I'll be Mrs. Laura Barton. That has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?_

"Lila," Cooper hesitated to ask, his voice wavering and catching ever so slightly, as he knew exactly who had written about meeting their father for the first time, yet wanted confirmation from someone else as well. "Is this Mom's?"

Lila looked up at him, a smile on her face, a sparkle in her eyes that in that moment reminded him so much of his mother, and nodded. "I couldn't believe it either. And there are," she paused to push open the trunk, "a bunch more in here. Mom must have kept a journal her entire life," she said, amazed that someone had actually detailed everything that had happened to them over the course of their entire life.

"It definitely looks like it." Cooper agreed. "So, what did you want to do with these? I can't see you wanting to stay holed up in here for the whole time while we read these," he asked, motioning towards the trunk.

"Well," she started, before turning to fully face him, her best puppy eyes gazing up at him, "I was hoping we could hide them in your room and you know, read them? It's just," she continued, knowing her brother would want to respect their mom's privacy, "think, Cooper. You knew Mommy for 11 years and I knew her for 9, but Nate, he was just getting to know her when she left. But maybe by reading these," she looked towards the seemingly innocent journals, "we'll get to know her better, and if Nate ever asks questions about Mom we'll be able to know exactly what she'd say if she were there to answer the questions herself."

Cooper knew his sister was right. While he remembered far more about their mom than Lila did and always would, he didn't have a photographic memory. He could remember the way she smiled, what she smelled like – vanilla and the most perfect chocolate chip cookies, what her voice sounded like, and what her hugs felt like. However, if asked about what she would have thought about certain subjects or how she would have reacted in different situations, he had no idea how to respond. "Alright," he agreed. "Grab as many as you can and bring them with you. We'll come back for the ones left behind and hide them in my closet."

"The place no one ever goes because it's so messy?" Lila teased, grabbing as many journals as she could carry.

Cooper glared over his shoulder at her. "It's not that bad. Besides," he said, making his way towards the door, "I know where everything is, so there." He stuck out his tongue, eliciting a casual roll of his sister's eyes, a shake of her head, and her favorite thing to say about his room.

"If you say so, Coop. If you say so."

* * *

"Lila, listen to this!" Cooper exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement. Excitement that made Lila want to snicker and smirk to herself, as Cooper had been the one who had been originally against this idea, and now he seemed to be the one most excited by it. Lila still thought that it was a great, no, wonderful idea, but she just wished she could read something a bit more exciting. Reading about what clothes her mother had chosen to wear and what she had done during elementary school and middle school during the 1980's was only interesting to a certain extent and were most definitely not the most enlightening or attention capturing subjects.

"Yeah?" Lila asked, setting down the journal she had been reading from 1988, as she made her way to the other side of the room where Cooper sat staring at the written words that decorated the journal he held as if they were a treasure map leading him to Blackbeard's hidden treasure.

"Listen," he instructed as he moved the book closer to Lila so she could read along, the hand writing far more like the one that had signed her papers or had written what she wanted to add to her dad's Father's Day cards when she had been little.

 _Dear Journal,_

 _He did it! He really did it. I guess I always knew this day was going to come, Clint's not all that subtle, but he really, absolutely, truly did it! And when he did, somehow he managed to surprise me. Me, his best friend since we were younger. He brought me to the most gorgeous farm and once we had looked around everywhere, and I mean everywhere, and after I had fallen head over heels for it, he led me to the swing on the front porch, got down on one knee and proposed. On, can you believe it? Clint, our Clint being so romantic? It was just like a dream, dear journal. I had to pinch myself to make sure it was actually happening and I hadn't dreamt it up. I still can't believe it actually happened, but it was so wonderful and sweet that I swear I'll never forget a single second of it. He's been my best friend for so long and now, now he's my fiancé and one day my husband._

 _I still can't believe it's real! Pinch me again please!_

 _Your truly amazed and speechless friend,_

 _Laura._

"Mom sounds so young." Lila stared at the journal, gently tracing the loopy cursive with her pointer finger. "So Dad proposed here? On Mom's swing?"

"That's what it sounds like." Cooper agreed. "No wonder why she and Dad always loved that old swing so much." He chuckled a bit, remembering the countless times he and Lila had begged their parents to get a newer, nicer porch swing, each time being told no and that one day they'd understand why they simply couldn't bear to part with it.

"So did you find anything interesting?" He asked Lila, turning back to the journal he had been looking through hoping to find another golden entry.

"No." Lila sighed, grabbing a journal from his stack and flipping to the middle. "I think I've read more about middle school fashion and homework and middle school drama from the 80's than I ever want to in my life."

Cooper looked up from his journal and nodded sympathetically. "That stack over there," he pointed to a pile of four green journals, "are from Mom's college years. Interesting but not necessarily the most enlightening read. But you never know Li. Maybe you're holding the journal that Mom wrote all of her secrets in." He offered her an encouraging smile. "You never know until you read it, Li."

"True." Lila conceded, flipping a few pages backwards. "Good luck with your search, Coop," she wished as she started to dig into their mother's past once again.

 _My dear Cooper, Lila and Nathaniel._

 _Hello darlings. Please don't look so shocked to find a letter addressed to you inside one of my journals. I know (or knew…) that one day someone was going to get bored and convince the others to play hide and seek with them and that you'd stumble upon these old journals that your dad had most definitely stored away and forgotten about. Or if it wasn't hide and seek then it was tag, and if not tag then sardines or one of the many other games you loved playing as children. That said, I'd bet a lot of money that it was hide and seek that led you to these journals. But putting that all aside, I know one way or another you'll find my journals someday and someday read this journal and in particular this entry._

 _Goodness, I love you all so very much. I always have and I always will. You were and are your dad's and mine long hoped for dreams and everyday I spent with all of you was a true dream come true. Currently your dad is playing with you, Cooper and Lila, and Nathaniel, you are currently snuggled up in your crib fast asleep. I'm always amazed when I look at you and see and remember just how much you've grown and changed from when you were just a small and adorable baby to the handsome young man (and toddler) and beautiful young lady you are now. Yet as you grow up and get older, I hope you never lose that childhood faith and joy I know the three of you so strongly possess and that your dad and I have tried to cultivate in each one of you._

 _My darlings, I hope you didn't find this journal until you were old enough to understand everything that is recorded in here. No couple is perfect; every family has their secrets and so do we. But Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel, please try to understand what I am going to tell you. I hope more than anything that I didn't leave you before you were old enough to understand what I have to tell you and what I need you to do. But life is a little like a game of hind and seek, that game that you loved so much when you were little. You do as much as you can while time is ticking by and hope that when it finally is up, you've done enough so when they find you, and without a doubt they will eventually find you, you're satisfied and happy with how you played the game. I didn't want to leave any of you, but there's a part of me that knows my time is almost over, that the seeker has almost finished counting, and I need to write this letter to you more than ever now in hopes that you will find it someday when the time is right. I wish more than anything that it were not true, and that I could stay here with the ones I love most, but one cannot stop the hands of time. No matter how hard we try, nothing can stop their constant motion. And so my little ones who I hope are not so little anymore, I need to ask you to do one last thing for me._

 _I want you to be happy. All of you. I don't want any of you to be sad because I'm no longer there, because you, my loved ones, should never be sad. Lila and Cooper, you have each other, just as you always have and always will. Nathaniel, you have or will have, a life long friend whose friendship, I can promise you, will be able to withstand whatever life throws at it. However, it's your dad that I'm worried about. My poor darling Clint will have been left all alone and not by his own design. Please don't let him suffer in silence. Make him laugh and smile and live. Make him remember what it is to be happy again and to feel something. But most of all, most importantly, make sure he loves. My darlings, make sure he remembers how to love._

 _Now, I know this is going to sound weird, and I've thought about how to ask all of you this for a very long time but, for lack of better more eloquent words, I need you three to be me and aid me in some matchmaking since I can't actually be there. I bet none of you expect that your mother's last wish would have a part asking you to help her play matchmaker from beyond the grave, right? Or perhaps knowing me for so long you did. Either way, there is a perfect partner out there who I know would absolutely complement your father and make him whole again. How exactly she does it, I don't truly know. Yet she does it without trying and I know she will be perfect for your dad. Lila, Cooper and Nathaniel it has to be her as I wouldn't trust anyone else except her, the woman I never expected to meet but who has become my closest girlfriend, with your father's heart and soul._

 _I have no doubt that you know exactly who I am thinking of as who else could it be? Your Aunt Natasha. I do, however, know how difficult it will be to convince those two far too hardheaded and stubborn individuals that this is a good idea and that it cold even be one of the best ideas they will ever encounter, but my dears never give up hope. Never. Because if you lose hope, what do you have left? Nothing. That said, I do have something, a little, let's call it a trump card, to help you convince them to even contemplate this idea. Make your Aunt Natasha talk about soulmarks. That's the key, my darlings. If you can do that, I have faith that fate will work the rest out._

 _I hope you know that I never wanted to leave you and that I love you all with all my being. You three made life worth living and gave me so much happiness and joy that I never could have imagined would be possible on earth. I hate knowing that one day I will have to leave you, but know that I am never truly gone. When it feels like I am, simply look around at each other for I love on in the three of you, my three darling children, and the love you have for one another._

 _But please help me accomplish that match. I know you can do it and if either of those stubborn, stubborn but ridiculously loyal and genuine people I have been so blessed to know ever ask or wonder what I would think of the match, please tell them that I five them my whole hearted blessing and that I am smiling down on them and rooting for them._

 _I will be smiling down and watching over each of you. I always have and always will. No matter what happens, I am so proud to have known you and that you are the ones I can call my children. Never forget that your Mommy loved you and is so very proud of whatever you do. Even when you are old and have white hair, I will always be your mommy and will never ever stop loving or stop being proud of what you have done. You three truly made my life worth living my darlings. I love you all more than words could ever express._

 _All my love,_

 _Mommy._

Lila read the journal entry once, then twice and then a third time, hardly believing what she was reading. But it was her mom's journal, her mom's handwriting and reading it, she could hear her mom saying exactly what was written as if she were sitting right next to her and had never left them in the first place. Lila took a deep breath still trying to process what had been asked of them. What their mom had requested them to do had a huge possibility of blowing up in their faces, especially after their Aunt Natasha had pulled that disappearing trick. Yes, Aunt Nat had explained that she was needed back at work and that while she didn't want to leave them, she needed too. Yes, she had also promised them that they'd see their dad get better and, if they didn't, all they had to do was call her and she'd come right back no matter what was happening. And of course she had told them she loved them and that she was so sorry for leaving like that. They had understood why their aunt had to go and they had forgiven her for her sudden disappearance, but Lila didn't know if their dad had as well. He'd moved everything that was their Aunt Nat's into the attic and stored away everything that reminded anyone of her as well. Sometimes when Lila asked him to tell them about one of his and Aunt Nat's past missions, his face would grow stormy and his eyes dark and he'd request that she choose a different topic with such ice and distance in his voice that at times it would scare her as to what he was feeling or thinking in that moment. So with one of their mother's desired pair furious and the other one gone who knew where, Lila wasn't too sure how it would all work out. But it was their mom who had asked them personally to try and it was their mom who believed that it would all work out, so she believed as well. Besides it could be fun, and Lila had never been a matchmaker before, so she thought what better time to try than now.

"Cooper," Lila said, her voice carrying across Cooper's room to where her brother was now sitting with his back against the door, his legs stretched out in front of him and his head moving up and down as he nodded off to sleep.

Lila giggled a little at the sight. Only her brother could fall asleep anytime and anywhere. Sneaking her phone out of her pocket, she quickly snapped a picture before she attempted to wake him up again. "Cooper!" she called, this time much louder and more forceful.

"What?" Cooper jerked out of his sleep. "I'm awake, I'm awake," he said, groggily shaking his body in an attempt to wake up. "Five more minutes, please, Dad," he called as he settled back down to continue his nap.

Lila sighed. Trying to wake her brother up was like trying to wake up her dad – nearly impossible. Looking around for something she could use to wake Sleeping Beauty up, her eyes caught something. As a smirk began to cross her face, she reached down and in one quick motion launched the purple pillow into the air where it landed with a resounded smack on Cooper's legs.

Startled, Cooper jumped up and began to look around wildly to try and understand where the flying missile had come from. Finding Lila, he grabbed the pillow and marched over to her. "Was that really necessary?" he asked, holding up the pillow.

"Well," Lila said, pretending to think, "it got you up, didn't it? And it also brought you over here, so I would say yes." She grinned up at her big brother, knowing he couldn't stay angry at her for too long.

Cooper crossed his arms and glared at her, but as he glared at her he felt himself getting less and less annoyed. "Fine," he finally sighed. "What was so important that you had to launch a pillow at me to wake me up? If it's about the journals, I'm not sure what it is that you could possibly want to show me because I've just spent the last few hours learning more and more about Mom and Dad's first few years of marriage than I think I ever want to know."

"I think this is something that you'll read, Cooper," she said as she patted the space next to her and handed him the journal.

Lila could only watch the emotions dance across Cooper's face as he read their mother's letter to them. Changing from confused to sad to bewildered to understanding and then back to sad again, she was amazed at how clearly Cooper's emotions were shown on his face and as she sat next to him, could only wonder if those same emotions had been so evident on her own face as she had read the letter over and over again.

Setting down the journal, Cooper turned to his sister. "And now I know why you threw a pillow at me."

Lila nodded.

"It's Mom, so it has to be true, because she wouldn't joke about something like this, right?" Cooper asked, trying to convince himself that what he had just read had actually been real.

Lila nodded again. "I think so." She took back the journal and placed the purple ribbon bookmarker in it to save the page. "She asked us, Cooper. Mom trusted us to asked us to help her with this," Lila added, her voice filling with awe as she once again contemplated what their mom had written.

"Then we'll do it," Cooper decided. "Are you okay with the idea though, Lil?" he asked, wanting to know if she was open to the consequences that could come about if they were successful.

Lila looked down at the journal for a few moments before looking back up and catching her brother's eyes. "She'll never be Mommy but I can't think of anyone I'd rather have than her," she finally whispered.

Cooper's eyes softened. "You know that she'd never try to take Mommy's place. That's not how Aunt Nat thinks or acts. Mom wouldn't have asked us to do this if she had any inkling that something like that would happen or if she wasn't the perfect person for the role," he gently told her. "But if you have any second guesses we don't have to do this, Lil. We can hide this journal and pretend like today never happened."

"I know." Lila said softly. "And I don't have any second guesses about Daddy or Aunt Nat, but Coop, if, if something goes wrong and we mess something up and Aunt Nat and Daddy end up hating each other, she'd still be out Aunt Nat, right?" She asked her voice trembling as she imagined losing another beloved adult.

Cooper put his arm around Lila's shoulder and tenderly pulled her towards him. "You know she'd never let something like that stop her from loving us," he reassured his little sister. "She dropped everything to come help us because she loved us and I can't see something like a failed relationship make her ever feel any differently about us."

"Okay." Lila sighed. "You're right, Cooper."

They sat there for a few moments imagining what it would be like, their mother's dream, if they were successful. How different would it be from the year that their Aunt Nat had spent with them, taking care of them and making sure that they knew they were loved? They couldn't imagine it being much different, besides the fact that their Dad and their Aunt Nat would actually be interacting with one another. Cooper imagined a home where the warmth would never disappear and would never seem dark or dreary again. Lila imagined a home where they would come home to loving hugs and where she would never be frightened by what she saw in her father's eyes. And in the far, far part of her mind, Lila imagined a little sister that she and Cooper wouldn't ever have to act like a mother or father to but rather where she would be the best older sister and never look at her and feel a distant sense of guilt for not doing anything to save her mother.

"Coop?" Lila asked, breaking the silence that had fallen on both of them.

"Yeah, Lil?" came the response.

"Where do we start?" Lila wondered.

Cooper looked down at her, his smile reminding her so much of her mother's when she was excited about something. "The only place we can. The Avengers."

* * *

"And that's another dead end." Cooper ignored the urge to throw the telephone down in frustration. They had been searching for months for their Aunt Nat but it seemed as if she had disappeared off the face of the earth.

"Wanda wasn't able to help?" Lila asked, looking up from the gift she was wrapping on Cooper's bed. She was surrounded by presents – a pile of wrapped gifts lay to her left and a much larger pile of gifts that had yet to be wrapped lay on her right promising an evening full of tape, wrapping paper and ribbons.

Cooper shook his head. "She said she wished she knew where she was or how to get hold of her but that they hadn't had contact with them for a week now and that she could literally be anywhere in the world right now." Cooper explained as he sat across from his sister and began to help her wrap.

"Not so big pieces of tape, Coop," Lila scolded, taking the piece of tape from his fingers and giving him one of hers.

"Sometimes I think that Aunt Nat just doesn't want to be found," Cooper sighed as he moved on to the next present, careful to rip smaller pieces of tape this time. "Maybe everyone's just lying to us because she doesn't want us to find her."

"Or she could actually be out on a mission just like they keep telling us," Lila countered as she nodded when he showed her the piece of tape, fixed the ribbon she had been curling, and then glared at it searching for any imperfections.

"A mission for this long Lil? You can't believe that that's true," Cooper told her as he handed her a book for Nathaniel.

Taking it, she shrugged and said, "I can't see why everyone would lie to us using the same story. Besides, she sent us those." She pointed to the stack of neatly wrapped packages that stood piled in the corner of the room.

"Still," Cooper sighed, "something just feels wrong."

Lila smiled sympathetically. "Maybe all we need is a little Christmas magic. Who knows, she might end up surprising all of us and sneak into the house tonight and be downstairs waiting for us in the morning."

"I wish," Cooper said, disbelief that something like that would actually happen evident on his face. "That would be simply too perfect to be true."

* * *

A loud constant knocking woke Clint out from his sleep. Groaning slightly, he stretched and was going to go back to sleep thinking it was a dream when an anxious voice called out his name. Fumbling on the nightstand for his phone, he glared at the electronic device when it told him that it was only 3:14 in the morning.

The knocking got louder as Clint lifted himself from the bed, for once not noticing that the other side of his bed was empty and cold. "I hope you know what time it is," he grumbled under his breath as he made his way down the hall, quietly shutting his children's bedroom doors.

"There are three children in this house, one who is three years old and who will be very cranky if he is woken up by your obnoxious knocking. Not to mention his very annoyed father if he has to deal with that at 3 in the morning," Clint mumbled, making his way down the stairs.

Standing in front of the door the knocking got louder and louder and more and more anxious. _Was that Steve's voice?_ Clint's still sleepy mind wondered as he once again heard his name being called out. _No_ , the rational part reasoned. _What would Steve be doing out here? He's out saving the world with Natasha._ _Oh well. We'll just open the door, see what they want, give them an angry talk about common courtesy on Christmas morning, help them because it's Christmas and then go back to bed._

Sighing and mentally and physically shaking himself in order to wake up, he opened the door expecting to see one of his few neighbors who were probably behind on wrapping presents or Christmas baking standing there asking if he had any wrapping paper, tape, flour, or sugar, but the person who stood there was in front of him was no one he had expected to be there.

There, standing on his front porch, was a man dressed in red, white, and blue holding what seemed to be a black object hanging limply in his arms its red ribbon having come undone and was now trailing across his porch, down the stairs and across his snow covered yard. Well, that was something he'd have to make sure got picked up after Steve, _yes it was Steve_ his mind told him, came in. It wouldn't do for it to go flying to who knows where in the wind and have some poor unsuspecting soul pick it up and wonder how in the world it had gotten there.

Moving to turn on the lights so Steve could see better when he came in, Clint blinked a few times as his eyes slowly adjusted to the suddenly light filled room.

"Steve it's 3 in the morning. What are you doing here?" Clint asked as he turned around to face him, his eyes taking in Steve's disheveled look, the rips and the dirt and dust streaks that marred his uniform, the tight grimace his mouth was set in, and the worry that was so evident in his eyes. _What happened?_ Clint wondered as his eyes slowly moved from his hurt teammate to the object that was cradled so gently in his harms.

As he starred at the object after blinking a few times he realized that it was not a package but a person, and not just any person, but someone who was bleeding, a constant dripping from an open wound. _The red ribbon,_ his mind told him.

Slowly the pieces were being put together in his mind as he looked at the black cat suit, the softly glowing electric blue around the delicate wrists, _which can kill you in an instant_ his brain informed him, the pale skin, _far too pale_ his brain chimed in, and the vibrant scarlet curls that were matted against the woman's head and matched the blood that was constantly flowing and that stood out far too much against the while, blue tinged complexion they wore.

Suddenly as Clint heard Steve say "Please Clint, we, she needs help" and the steady drips on blood fell to the ground one by one, the pieces snapped into place – Natasha.

 _Not all soulmates are romantic. In families with multiple children, there is quite a high possibility that two of the children will end up with green soulmarks. Now while these are quite common, that doesn't take away from the bond between the two. In having one's soulmate be their brother or sister only serves to strengthen their bond as not only do they have to love their sibling because, well, they're siblings, but the instinctive knowledge that they can and always will be able to trust that person helps to make them feel more at home with each other. None of these pairs are ever romantic, but it is often documented that when one of the pair brings home their girlfriend or boyfriend, it is their soulmate who will give the "shovel speech". Now that doesn't always mean that these pairs won't fight, because just like any pair of siblings, they will fight with each other, but it does mean that they will never intentionally hurt one another with their words or actions and that they will always make up._

* * *

 **AN. I'm sorry this chapter took so long to post; I do hope you enjoyed it though. :) I just want to say a huge thank you to LittleeOne, Fury-Natalia, and Marjorie K. Place for reviewing (the last chapter and chapter 1 &2), quasarsmon, Flareup4Ratchet, Alpecca Ankaa Black, and Marjorie K. Place for following this story, Flareup4Ratchet for adding this story to their favorites list and everyone who has taken the time to read the last chapter. Thank you all for your support. It truly means the world to me. :)**

 **As always a huge thank you to S. who is the best beta a girl could ask for. I couldn't have done this without you!**

 **I hope you had/have a wonderful day. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this chapter! (Does anyone want to guess the color/soulmate of the other Avengers?) Thank you all again. :)**


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